A dance between the God’s
Is a metaphor for dying
A phrase for prancing on landmines
And hope immortality saves you from death
It is guilty feet devoid of rhythm
Dancing of beat because the heart stopped beating
The chest stopped heaving
So you try to breath musical notes
And realise that Oxygen is the only Crotchet
That keeps you moving.
Moving towards death
Towards the last dance
Towards oblivion
Towards a Colosseum of corpses
That learnt how to breathe with their throats closed
With infinity playing in the background
But you are flesh, for now
And a dance away from being a God
Linda Masilela is poet that happens to study medicine.