Meeting at the cross roads we see each other’s bright and gaunt face
We can’t tell the real story behind the façade because the horns are invisible
They may face directly to the opposite with a sting
Unfortunately I would not know when to side step the bullet
The only time we get to know it is when there’s a storm or conflagration
The attempt to quell the disaster determines the calibre of friends and foes
Who will come and go in the hour of need and brag
The action of truth bring reality in love and hate
No surprise to see people who need acknowledgement dancing alone in the storm
And those that expect nothing, in the camaraderie of the dancing hall
The horns may become visible in the presence of none but the dyad
Sticking points spoiling the lovers’ paradise music
Tracing the silhouette of the horns in the confluence may reveal the ugly side with regret
Or may bring forth mixed feelings, comfort or elation
However the truth is about split horns just like the crossroads!
N Nkuna,6 October 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem