Through the lonely roads 



My heart flickers like a light bulb

The pain strikes in voltages

My blood runs completely cold,

As i look into the palms of death with empty eyes

With smeared ghosts of human imprints

Just a few o'clocks from midnight

And a few still till the beauty of the heavens rises



I've motioned fiercely,

On the deadly roads of gruesome art,

Spills of blood from rage and tears from empathy

Mourning songs from the night creatures

And exotic smells from nature



Flooded with the overwhelming need to run panic stricken

Like a frightened deer, so afraid

My feet glue to the ground

My heart flickers even more, startled

And i feel my hairs stand on end

holding erect until i let out a scream



Do i give up? Do i not ?

My memories all are labyrinths

I do not seem to find an escape

I nip at a canteen of courage and tell myself not to panic

Will i not?

Perhaps i said i was a woman too quickly,

Because i feel like a little girl



As the sun slips into the afternoon sky,

I keep telling myself not to panic

But i begin to shout but my own voice mocks me

In echoes bouncing off the walls of this dungeon that surrounds me

Just another series of fraught shouts, bringing nothing but my echo



My cries, my screams, my fear

They don't make me

Though sheer the climb is, hands, feet, like claws
 
I will work my way up like a spider

The sound of my own breathing and grunting is so loud it startles me




Ayanda Edna Dlanga is a young poet with a dream of becoming an acclaimed author. Fueled with a lifelong love for storytelling and expressing emotions as they are.