Black Flower.


I was having a conversation with her, and it all came to light, an epiphany, a revelation my third eye opened to a sight.

In the mind of my metaphors. I saw a red rose and a yellow lily bloom in the sunlight. They stood in their magnificent nature of god, created to exist.

I asked her, what if a red rose decided that it hated its red and its rose. Its red and its rose are the ingredients of its soul.

Yet, it chooses to dress in the petals of a yellow lily; its phenomena now hidden from the light.

The red rose would never truly exist. It’s now a yellow rose with a lost soul.

She was content with that, comfortable in a world where her red rose natural is not enough, and forbid it ever breathe light. The lie becomes a truth and the truth becomes a preference.

I told her, I stripped the yellow petals off of me. my red rose petals breathed in the light, and for the first time i saw beauty, power and talent, oh my what an incredible sight.

My colour red, not yellow is enough for me. When I stand I become the light. I am ready for war.

To her, be like the red rose who found light in the red and the rose.

Poetry by Fezeka Mkhabela