Stages

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A butterfly does not return to a caterpillar after it is mature.

However, life comes in stages.
We all have different ages.
We do what we do because of our ages.
Knowingly or unknowingly,
we act because of where we have reached in life.

Although it seemed to be the young man who showed honour and obedience to the old man, to authority and dignity;
now again it was apparently the old man who was required to follow, serve, worship the figure of youth, of beginning, of mirth.

They played games.
The young and the old.
They are having fun on a stage where no actor can act.
They need a clown, so they could enjoy the applause of the crowd; which could feeds their egos, soothed their souls, and justified their filthy minds.

Is it true, that ‘kindness and cruelty’ and ‘mercy and justice’ all have secret affairs, as though they rendezvous only within certain sophisticated souls: those who hate being offensive, but love telling the truth ?!

I was once lost under the cloak of universal themes and terms such as freedom, change, and acceptance, madness ensues, being readily welcomed by those whose mind’s eye questions nothing.

Yet I’ve come to known that only grey,
you conclude that all greys are the same shade.
You mock the simplicity of the two-colour view,
yet you replace it with a one-colour view.

I am simple, but I am not a clown.
I chose to be simple that I wish the red sun reflecting the eagerness towards life.
Even when it’s setting down,
the last moment still engraved in someone’s heart forever.

Yes, I miss this land –
the ever pure and innocent souls of the people.

June 2019 – Lusaka, Zambia, Africa.

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