The Enduring Flame

I have been to a place

Where the fires

Never cease their burning;

The perdurable veld fires

Emit billowing black clouds of smoke

As a greeting -

A greeting,

Or a warning? -

To the streams of motorists

Entering this inferno.

This Hell, which is home

To a greater danger

With smaller flames:

The delicate orange licks

Used to light

The tik lolly;

Flames infinitesimal,

Yet they light up a whole room,

And a previously whole mind

Which has subsequently

Gone up in smoke -

The smoke which

Fuels the violence

Of the gangsters.

The gangsters

Who trade blood

For Nike sneakers and gold chains:

Their symbols of status,

Power, and dominion -

The monopolized 

Property moguls

Of the underworld,

With their territory wars

And turfs to protect.

And new recruits to lure...

Like vultures,

They watch

Children running in the streets

With plastic guns,

Who, before escaping childhood,

Swap those toys

For real ones.

And thus, their legacy

Is kept alive

By the same delicate flame

Which causes their decease

And plunges them into

The greater fire

Of the Hell

They have created.