In the north
there are rolling clouds that have outlived the need of a silver lining —
Thunderously reminiscing about the sun’s smile,
that reigned with rays stretched thin
Leaving a trail of goose bumps when they touched skin.
So on the brightest day, the dullest yellow star sent it’s apparitions to trudge through the atmosphere
Like toy soliders shooting for peace,
conscripted by the ruins of a decaying kindom
I am a cooling planet that can’t rest in peace because my body is a war zone
Fatigue envelopes me —
It’s a warm hug with a cynical smile that once sustained the sun’s shine
It breathes down my spine
Looks into my eyes, and lusts,
Longing for a flame
But the star inside is going…out
Lindiwe Khambule is a poet and journalist from Johannesburg, South Africa. She occasionally documents imagination one script at a time.