THE PRAYER
Gods of literature, Diviners of expression, Ancestors of creation
Consent my rod of chance with a leak of your heavenly blood.
Bleed through my rod to my youthful pages
As I go through the experience of stages.
Compress my spirit until all the juices of doubt leak,
Aside from my fears show me courage that I can seek.
Squeeze my wisdom to the point where my pride escapes.
Gods of art, make me the heart of your darts.
Point your arrows to the heart of my pen, so I can
Ejaculate all the sweats of my desires and fantasies
To those who care enough to trace the trails of my thoughts.
Emperors of the muted warriors,
Rulers of the loudest kingdom,
I, your muted soldier, beg you grant me with courage,
As I aspire to be heard in the name of your empire
Through the piercing sounds of my sword.
Words that spill blood of history, present and the future.
Keepers of the ultimate treasure
Treasure that conquers all the dimensions of this world
Within seconds of activation.
Give me inspiration and motivation
To find this treasure, to find my creativity.
Mhleli Tenza
Bindweed Magazine 