Disclaimer: this is no Harry Potter reference but I’m here to tell a tale where I was enthralled by a siren, whilst walking the hallways of this construct called life.
We were made martyrs
willing to die at the gaze of her bosoms.
Renounce our commitments.
Many fathers have left before so my offsprings will only get stronger.
at my absence.
her siren sounds
Enthralled mostly my loins,
Each moan’ depleted my coins.
She the slayer,
beheaded I the head of the house.
I left without hesitation or care for my spouse.
I was a seeker, the prize was I.
A victim to holes, to rings
enslaved… it felt.
Initially, the aim was to score.
Hit once and head back to my wife.
Yet the game squared up.
Once a king at her touch.. today a peasant.
But I live to tell this tale today… that you spare some change…
And do things differently so you don’t end up
A Beggar like me,
Scavenging for burgers in trash bins.
Reminiscing about being a has been…
A game of quidditch between rings…
Katlego Maaba, known as Hexed Sante… is not foreign to the arts, writing and poetry, having performed and shared a stage with a few great poets such as the Afro alphabets, Modise Sekgothe, Quaz, Flo to name a few…
Is practically a construction professional, experiencing the Demi-God construct of creating and perfecting something from soil and nothingness, to monuments that immortalize our existence in their architecture and stature.