I spoke to my heart told him of the imaginable tales of sadness and frustration…

Emphasised that his desires are fictious nonsense that will never reach the ears of God…

Whispered that he shall seek and hopelessly will never find his own beat in a song that rejects its own tune…

I spoke to my heart told him of the greatest conspiracy contrived by the thickening blood streams intensified by vigorous efforts of the veins performing to ultimately keep him calm…

Narrated his journey through the heated ashes that his feet smokes and his toes choke as he discovers how adventurous his poverty is…

I confided in him, opened my vulnerability with sharp instruments that cut into the details of uncertainty and dry hope…

He responds with silence that speaks to my voice humming through the melody with simple notes of agony and indignity…

His pain is articulated in his rhythm of lows composed by the wounded sounds that lack harmony and reconciliation…

I looked at him but he can’t see me because his soul has lost vision and sensory…

I spoke to my heart told him of his displacement and disjuncture in a body that celebrates dysfunction…

A deadly conflict that separates me from within and peace is foreign where it is needed most…

An internal dialogue that haunts, suppresses, depresses the genius symphony of thought,
feeling and spirited movements…

Tears and blood flow through the pores of my thirsty skin paving reflection and restoration…

I spoke to my heart and told him that the gift of his soul lies wrapped up with metallic muscles locking the misery in discovery and patience is key…

I SPOKE TO MY HEART…

© Jeremiah Sepotokele
29/08/2013

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