Sunday, May 10, 2020

Oracles Lament, Nicksha T. Mwanandimayi

A lament to a fallen nation
A race of relativism with a finite battle
Deluded by the enlightenment of their great sages
When the sun shines in winter they call it summer
When the temperature drops in summer they call it an ice age
No wrong and right there is no canon
Absolutes are an abomination
Red can be blue and indigo isn’t purple
Lime and green have infinite variants between them
I love my Rottweiler so we can get married
An amphibian and a mammal can cohabit
The badger proposes to the beaver and adopt a squirrel.

Forget the sun the moon signals our dawn
Twilight is the noon of the former ages
In this age we are all Demi-theos
An oxymoron can be read in everything
Forget the wine blood is richer
We tried the absolutes and lightning didn’t strike
No holding back restraint is for the placid
Nietzsche proclaimed its epilogue and maybe Marx was right
Extermination’s weren’t the beginning but the microcosm
What is crime when murder is the greatest purifier?
A finite age with infinite possibilities.

Like a tightened bow my heart wants to rip
Like a sniper ready to pull the trigger I feel the emotions swelling
With none to comfort and appease my heart the world is getting lonesome
In the midst of tumult the silence is deafening
In silence solitude is at its loudest
I see the fear creeping in
I sense a cold chill behind my ear
The whispers of a defeated foe
Can anyone set me free?
I dream of a brumby free in the wild
A friend of the wind
A spirit roaming so free
Chester asked, can someone save me from myself?
Robin smiled yet without a word his farewell he did not bid
A chef from Bordeaux called it quits
Van Gough a genius who found the voice too overwhelming
The Montagues and the Capulets their story’s end we all know
Bennington repeated the words, leave out all the rest,
My heart beats like the pulse of gazelle running away from a predator
Unlike a babe in arms mine are silent tears.

Where is my buckler and my shield?
In a carnivorous world is there a place for the herbivore
Can the slowest gazelle outrun the quickest lion?
Can the moon compete with the sun for radiance?
The bow tightens yet the archer relents not
The sniper has his target yet he hesitates
Stand watch with me says the blind man
Give an ear to me says the deaf man
Listen to my words says the mute

Nicksha T. Mwanandimayi, @nick_mwanaBorn in Harare, Zimbabwe in 1985, a recipient of the
Junior Budding Writers Association Award, he was featured in local magazines and was editor of The Johnian Echo. He published Epitah: Memoirs of a Cymbal, which was ranked 16th in the Poetry genre on Amazon on 6 January 2020.

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