Love is often strange, rather, it is unexpected.
It had no cure, no remedy. It becomes doormat to those who have been infected by it. Closed off to the world of many, but one has the key to open the chest where the heart lays, where the heart reveals the facade of love. It is found and not looked for. It juggles between hot and cold before it settles to warmth. Eyes are plenty to see the forbidden in time, hidden is few to see the beauty of it. We drown in our own land before we are saved from what has killed us, what has torn us apart.
YOU ARE READING
Uthando Lwenhliziyo (Love of the heart)
General FictionOur stars don't repel... My heart is yours, yours is mine. It's your drum to listen too Silent for those who try to listen You are the love of my heart... (Physical copy is available on Amazon)
