Posted by: Ron DuBour | November 19, 2018

Fatherless soul~by Christopher Sonti Mothiba



Fatherless soul

As my feet take to concrete pave into a sea of faces,
My thought float with dark sorrow carrying faces of strangers and,
My imagination is in a depressing battle for a construction of a strange man’s face.
There are just too many faces for construction of one careless face,
Then a reflection of my face on marble stone reminisce on a thought that says,
I am just a fatherless soul.

Pain weighs my stare down to shoes hammering away and here,
A dream of a cross road clouds my thought in its soar painting of were shoes meet.
Puzzle by raw pain placing puzzling question, where did his shoes go?
Leaving this soul fatherless.

Thought is drained by agony to be interrupted by an itch on a belly of my hand,
Wonder blends as to what sin has a hand of an innocent child might have held,
When he walks without the sculpture of a hand he helped brew,
From an eye of a soulless father this hand marked unworthy,
To a fatherless soul they belong.

Raising an eye that is drowning in a river of tears to skies,
In view time darkening the light of day while horizon is showing off a royal colour.
It is a deed of time to call an assembly in winds of confusing emotions,
That is devouring a feed of life that exhales life to spirit in time.
Yet it is time that I need to restore
A life time of fatherless soul.

I need time to hold your hand,
Polish your shoe,
And kiss your face,
So I may not be a fatherless soul.

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