The Brethren (A Poem)

By Themba Mvula

With a cold shoulder he stares

In my understanding he is game

A victim of oneself I am

Like a Jaguar I patiently watch him

A trap I set for his own good

And felony is the result am sure

Never yourself in a lifetime

Should you forgive your own sins

For one greater still accounts for them

Now let us feast to our own destruction

Our righteousness locked in a dark room

With our disturd minds we laugh

Fate is still watching us with sorrow

Wish me luck brethren I declare

For I have run out of it

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