Every day that passes by
feels like an echo,
silent but heart-wrenching,
needy of silence
but afraid of neglect,
regret too, is a fear
but who would confess?
The stars lie awake
while the clouds gloom in the darkness,
I still search for truth in your eyes,
but they are as clear as the night sky,
your house bleeds the blood of hope
but all rivers and dams
are overdrawn to the last piece of hate and loss.
Your existence was a loss,
sorry, but one has to let go
This was written by our contributing writer, Siwaphiwe Matha.
Image Source: Unsplash, Dillon Groves
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