The Cycle

We are beings of fire
Born from ashes
Never ending, never begining
Never seeking, never finding,
Almost searching, still beseeching,
Asking you to stop
Looking
Staring
Regarding
Regardless of the fact
That I am here,
I am a creature that died
Floundering in the ashes of my crashes
And head on collides.
Ndakali kabotu….
I used to be beautiful.
I used to carry my head high
And walk the streets of my city.
But now I drag
Through the dust
Of forgotten lowroads and causeways
Throw my arms to the sky and scream
Every bird of the air,
Every insect on every leaf of every tree,
Remembers me:
A creature that shakes off ash
To rise like a flame.

Mutinta Michelle Nanchengwa

P.S quick translation, ndakali kabotu means I used to be beautiful. Its Tonga.

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