Raw

Raw feeling undiluted, Raw years of a deep yearning, One of fulfilment of a role long left vacant, Let my raw wounds tell a story, Let them fill my tears with phrases Like melodic chimes on a winter morning. Cunning black dilapidate in a ravenous thunder; My love for you almost poisonous But permanently tattooed in my heart Till when will my cries be on mute? Till when will your love stop being a craving, A drug needed to intoxicate my once intoxicated heart You cry but your tears are like daggers, Conspiring together to tear to shreds a once free flying butterfly Leaving a raw taste of emptiness Crinkled up with no hope of a better day L. Ngema