rwafang

[rwafang]

Germany, 2025

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Kutaisi, 2025

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[rwafang]

I am being strangled by red yarn.

From all directions,

Around my neck tied my ankles,

Tight on the wrist,

My chest, my waist.

Silhouettes all well accompanied,

But all them grab on tight to the other end of the strings.

[rwafang]

Thin brittle things,

The swaying shadows that invite me out tonight.
Undressed this time of year,

They swing, even in the loneliest of hours.

Tighter and harder, Cuff what energy there’s left.

Frivolous attempt at maturity.

To grow old is to let go.

Trust that dead wood will be fair to you.

Let the river flow,
unrepressed, flash flood of blue
the halo rise, it turned out to be the sun.
Come, witness. This event won’t be seen again 
not for the next 14 years. 


Fearless the eyes that peek from the lagoon.
The sword is in shambles.
Rigorous movements, kept it sharp.
Let no sun shower go to waste.
The time is yours my dragon.
Wing swept, all traps dismayed.
Open and free.
Rise

Let the current take over, and question nought else

Im at mercy, my steel bends.

The fire kills resistance, And gives life in exchange.

To live is to burn.
To suffer, is to exist.

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