Fate’s wings brought them together
in places where resided
logic and reason, beauty and hunger
in those underground years,
Preachers of passion and instincts
remained in them, the old spirit
As the african storms moved
Nomad of a man and women learnt
to love and women learnt to hate.
and years went past, unspoken
as those underground years,
torn them apart, torn them together
in places and in words,
where they called each other’s names
imprisoned in time, the old nomads
still in there, the old light
as the story emerge, ravenously untamed!

Kashkin