The Shrine of a Burning Man
(Xenophobic attacks in South Africa)
I stand beside the shrine of a burning man
and my eyes cannot see beyond the windows of pelting flames, as they spiral into the greyish sky of anger,
Death striking with the instance of a life, moaning away split moments of agony
another soul has yet to surpass the mortal dot
Picking a nose as the droplets of blue-smoke filled tar melt into bitter breath; compounding to whistles of eluding; faceless encroachers
my mind wandered back to unending days of turmoil; when my own was under siege of bondage and torture
Now a brother has claimed the life of a soul seeking refuge in the land of plenty
Brotherhood has taken flight from the blessed hand that giveth
Blatant lies overuled young minds and offered roasted truth dull and twisted,
while the odds stigmatize the victim of blinded fury
Pouring tears became the salvation for emotional release; faking the wisdom of love denied from sincerest hearts,
rowdy streets gone bad and paraded by tampered levity
