The woman who throws a hatchet at Her man

It is a taboo for a woman to throw,

A hatchet

at her man,

And it’s a taboo for a man to return,

The same to her,

Lest he gets estranged and struggle,

With the curse of the ancestors,

The ancestors of love,

Like those who saw stars

on Valentines..

A man who does not get love,

Searches for it elsewhere,

Like Hydrae,

Or hydraulic engine,

Set by the shore..

A sail is as good as the sailor..

It’s not about the winds,

But the turn of the tide…

People find love within or without,

For love, has a tendency,

To crash on emergency,

And like titanic,

Throws its tantrums..

Unfulfilled love kills,

Like a double edged poisoned arrow…

It killed Kafiti, the Village Wag,

Wagging, his tail like a hound,

Away,

Anyways…

A manifest of womanfest gone crazy,

Gone with the winds,

Through the window,

The window of betrayal,

In the sanctity of love,

That insane and unsanctified …