Yezela By Shoni Mazile

R.I.P we say, might it stand for revolving in pain for those who stay? Never can we be desensitized to the destruction that descends after death. While our loved ones rest peacefully we remain restless with unfathomable questions. 

For in selfish nature my favorite saying is "regardless of how many times we prayed, still you were taken away." God knows best we always say, but I have the audacity to question that case. 

Healing a bit and letting a joke slip I ask myself, what's life without a little surprise here and there, what's life without shedding the occasional tear? 3 relatives gone slowly heading on 4. God's timing has me contemplating how many shall I bury before securing my degree? 

How many will leave before I encounter she that makes me drop a knee? How many will leave before I help them back by writing that check, how many will leave before their investment starts to generate some real money? Questioning if God's timing might eventually lead to my defeat? For my deadlines are consistently failing to meet. 

How many times will I feel as if I'm bleeding out and my organs are simultaneously shutting down? While watching those heavy brown boxes sinking slowly into the ground, carefully cradling empty caskets that once housed a child of the creator. 

Listen as greed and pity synchronize to speak through the voice of Mpaphi. Disclosing absurd demands requesting supplementary seconds, when deprived of access to those who he occasionally avoided. 

How greedy can one be? Dreaming to redeem a soul that's at peace? Just for one more hug, just for one more touch, for one last expression of love. 

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