Sonnet 8

(Sonnet 8)

I like fights and war

I like sorrow and empty solace,

I like, yes I like the sound of a lass in labor

In that unbearable pain that I,

I only have caused.

I like the sound of spitting guns,

Maybe more the sound of crackling breaking necks,

Broken in bits by unforgiving hands,

I like the sound of death,

Death of a love lost

Buried in an incurable African disease.

I like inflicting pain.. watching, death grab her by the throat

I like fighting…

War,

Hunger and famine

But, just, just as long as the cause is worth it.

From my book excerpt...

Comments

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Of My African Mindset

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