By Moleboheng Mahasa:
I cannot run away from him. No I can't. No place is too far, too high, too low, too hidden, and too dark. I get lost through the cobbled labyrinth of life. I go around in circles, winding up at the same place often. I choke on the clouds of dust rising from beneath my feet as I run further and further away. I do not realise that I am headed in the wrong direction. I look at the lines of pain etched on my face, a familiar pathway for my tears. I feel helpless. I gasp for air as I drown in my own sorrows, sinking deeper and deeper as I try doing it on my own. In my dark corner I hide, surrounded by the vile stench of fear. I pull ostrich tricks, thinking that hiding from him means that he cannot see me.
If only I understood, that he knows not the meaning of labyrinth. If only I understood, that a circle, to him means completeness. Shouldn't I already know, I was meant to be running towards him? Isn't it common knowledge that he will give me joy for that pain I carry around religiously without fail? He is the air I breathe. His probing wise eyes miss no dark corners. He is forever shining his light upon me. His eyes go to and fro, watching over me, compelling me to surrender. And I have come to this realisation – I can NEVER outrun, outsmart or outmanoeuvre the goodness and mercy that have been summoned to follow me the rest of my life. I can't run away from him, no I can't.
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