The Final Dance

I am dancing with waves of sorrow in the core of an ocean,
Changing restoratives to tranquilize my acute discomfort,
Cogitations of death and dying tossing me about in a raging storm,
Constraining me to dance an incontrovertible and ceaseless rhythmical sequence of steps,
 Within the scope of torments and traumatic noiseless nights,
Harming entombment chant from sunset till dawn,
Far downwards in the very roots of the mountains,
Hopelessly persisting effortlessly until I desist from supplying my needs,
In the depth of the land whose gates lock shut forever.

Contagious and eliminating acquire COVID 19's soundless reaping razors,
Are reticently and restlessly reaping ripe and raw crops identically,
Diurnally interposing obstacles and impediments in my abridged excursion of life,
While my puny vessel noxiously leap and frisk with waves of infirmity and demise,
Far downwards in the very roots of the mountains.

By: Ditaba Hlojane
South Africa
Email: hloditaba@gmail.com