As I hugged the unusual, empty, snaking road,
I was well aware of the invincible presence,
A whoring evil presence… staring…hating,
Line of unsettled faces souring with loath
Sometimes I felt naked under their invincible gawk,
Overwhelmed with the stench of everlasting exhaustion,
But the feeling also filled my soul with a sickly sweet anticipation,
Of fate, luck or even unluck
The growing wind carried a myriad of strange dialects,
They were hissing sounds with undercurrents of fury,
What’s wrong with leading my life? Owning my life?
Doing what I want, where I want and how I want it!
I struggled to keep all obscenity well hidden in my heart,
Feeling the joy and the hurt of it too,
It attracted a strange and a curiously exciting feeling,
It felt unearthly, delectable, sweet and satisfying
I got distracted by a lone spidery purple flower,
It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant,
The flower carried neither any perfume nor odor,
Fire from the sky sent red hot winds along its path
They hissed violence that equaled the thumping of my chest,
They came from the sky of death to life,
They multiplied like maggots in a corpse,
Were they winds of change or of a new assurance?
Everything and everyone was battered down,
Consumed by self-fed agony,
Except for the lonely purple flower,
That huddled defensefully deep in the loose soil…
Aston kamunde 