The Black and Red Film

 

The Black and Red Film

 

It feels like a lifetime,

waiting, sitting in searing sun

after flowers are ripped from soil

wilted, barren and fruitless.

The time passes with agonising

lethargic cadence as I wait

for the Keeper to come with

much needed dead leaf and water –

a respite for this emptiness,

devoid of proper, clear meaning.

 

It feels like a lifetime,

waiting, sitting in searing sun.

Cracked clay, arid sand beneath my

chafed and raw fingers

proclaim the confusion clawing

at sound mind, but ruptured heart.

A chain links action to the base

of a mountain, unmovable.

The soil is stained with the ruby

glisten of continuously dripping blood.

 

Alas, it’s but a single frame

of this black and red film.

Dear lessons to be learnt

In the bloody art of the heart

a red sun will be replaced

with gleaming white rays

after night and all its darkness

have feasted on the young

 

October 2012 – Francois Hermanus Steyn

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