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wolfshadowwhispers

'n venster na 'n ander wêreld

My Corona

my gisters het verdwaal agter maskers
‘n wêreld geskep waar alles toe gesluit is
en almal is bang, op ‘n mikroskopiese vlak Lees voort “My Corona”

everything is a lie until it isn’t

The one thing in this world I have learned, and I have learned it from all of you meaning every person I have ever met, read or even heard about, is that everything is a lie until it isn’t. Lees voort “everything is a lie until it isn’t”

If I could turn into myself

Skin and bone,
my prison of alone
hidden skindeep Lees voort “If I could turn into myself”

So I smoke

Yes, I smoke. You can call it a filthy habit or a guilty pleasure and yes we all have reasons why we smoke, all seven million South Africans each has his or her reasons and I don’t judge. I hope you don’t as well, or at least, you are not one to force you anti-smoking beliefs on us. We don’t need to be arseholes about things that we don’t approve off, do we. Lees voort “So I smoke”

Hiding

hiding
hiding

 

hiding behind a mask
the heaviness creeps on me
every day a prison like the last
this burden I wish away from me Lees voort “Hiding”

Seeking

Seeking
Seeking

we seek freedom
and sense
in a fear gripped reality Lees voort “Seeking”

Lockup letter

Interesting that the number of suicides in South Africa has not been mentioned anywhere but it has been confirmed from a reliable source in the crime scene cleanup industry that their cleanups after suicides have increased drastically.

Lees voort “Lockup letter”

covet

The world feels empty right now
like a house fallen down
We are on the edge of something new
will it be born from darkness into the light
or will it be darkness reborn

the world feels ruined right now
a fallen house
how long until we recover
something is coming, be it a glimpse
of new heaven or hell

the doomsayers quote revelation
and locked up, the world looks out
on a blue sky
and wonder about cures and jobs
heaven can wait
we must survive now.

and we covet the old days
because the world will never be the same.

(c) 2020 Allen Wolfie Simpson
Photo used with permission of Hanneliese Bredell

Broken down

My heart is broken, not for the lives saved but the lives ruined,
My heart is broken not for the plenty but for the poor, Lees voort “Broken down”

counting all the ghosts…

counting all the ghosts...
counting all the ghosts…

 

Days are stretching out
never seem to end
melancholy bleeds like water Lees voort “counting all the ghosts…”

Buite

 

Buite, waar ek in gemaskerde stilte beweeg tussen lewende dooies…

iemand nies en sommige mense kry verskrikte kyke op hulle gesigte… Lees voort “Buite”

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