THE UNCANNY PICNIC

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Part 4: The Breathing Grave

Spending all my time laying on the bed,
It feels like I’m living in an enclosed castle
Seeing blood come out every time I cough,
I can’t deny that I’m just a breathing grave

Fruits of all sorts displayed on my table,
Only my eyes can manage to feed on them
My taste buds no longer functional,
I’m left with only four senses

My memory now an unredeemable treasure,
I can’t remember how I got into this state
My brains totally drenched in confusion,
My intuition wallow in despair

Being called ‘a man’ is only a title now
For I cannot do what other men do
Neither can I do what women do
Because I’m just a breathing grave

If I could walk, it would be better
Maybe I could be a moving grave
Unfortunately, I can’t walk or talk,
So I’m just a breathing grave.

— Bright Madziva

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Published by Bright Madziva

BRIGHT MADZIVA is a Zimbabwean Poet, Writer and Music Educationist. Music and Writing allow him to express his thoughts and emotional experiences properly to the world. He is a recorded musician with eight single tracks to his name.  He is a born musician and was later trained at Kwanongoma College of Music (United College of Education) in Bulawayo. He majored in song writing, mbira playing and vocalist. Presently, Madziva works with the Autism Organization of Zimbabwe in a bid to use his music and writing skills to provide the best therapy to autistic children. His main goal is to complement his voice and ink in advocating for the marginalized. He strongly believes that the Art of writing and the Art of song are the best tools to bring a positive change and peace to the world.

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