Tis blood that's shed to shake our souls, This blood that's shed, is from my veins, my child, my mother, my sister, my friend, Father shouts for us to go, He takes the bullet, sheds more of us. We're frozen, at first, and then we melt into rose red, Seeping into the rivers of sorrow. Africa beats her chest in pain, She stomps her feet, anklets betraying her fury. Our children have returned to the Earth. Life has lost this round to the firing squad in a material world. The whirlwind is tormented souls crying havoc. Tears fall into ocean and are buried there, forgotten. Until a new day for blood and sweat and maybe victory.
Shafinaaz is a sociologist, artist and poet based in Johannesburg, SA. She is the author of several works of non-fiction and fiction, and has been listed in HayFestival's Africa39 category of top 39 authors in Africa under the age of 40 at the London Book Fair 2014. Also see www.shafinaaz.co.za
I write. As I must. Words are my paints of expression on an otherwise bland canvas, my rollercoasters of delight on otherwise dreary roads. Entertainment or derision, they manifest in my varied states of being. Until theres silence. Even then, theres a dialogue of sorts that continues... in spirit? Who knows..