I don’t want to, lose you

That’s what she said before she walked away

I love you, I need you

It would make me happy, If you were to stay

But sadly words don’t prove intent

And her actions proved her words to be pretence

And even though sexual encounters were intense

I wish cupid had never lent his assistance

For, now love lays destitute

Depleting at incredible magnitudes

Coz your brain lacked the love aptitude

And your attitude?

Cool, calm, collected and couldn’t care less

Now I’m breaking hearts coz you left mine a bare mess

My reaction is negativity

But girl don’t stress

My heart no longer yerns for your return

Since it started with a spark,

Let’s let it burn.

by: Lwazi Premo Zungu

A language called love

She stopped me in the middle of the street

And, my God she looked so beautiful and sweet

With the perfect smile to render the image complete

Walked up to me and started to speak

Spoke to me in a language that was truly unique

I stopped her mid-sentence as emotions peeked

Excuse me, but

What is this language you speak that has my walls in quick sand

“A language called love,” she said, “that only soul mates understand”

Well damn!! Let’s continue the conversation

Let our souls connect through verbal penetration

And I thought encounters like these existed in my imagination

 Or simply in animation.

A language called love? Now that language is truly spectacular

A language that in only dreams they can call vernacular

A language that changes what you see

Simply designed for you and me

It makes all worries disappear

Speak to me more, so that I may hear.

By Lwazi Premo Zungu




They say power is held

by the person who says “I love u” last

And then we wonder why

Relationships no longer last

Ending fast with a blast

Because we are racing through

Behind unfaithful masks

And the blast?

It comes from the walls

We put up, when they come crashing

Down, because power was our only interest

How profound, no, our stupidity no longer rests

It all started when we mistook a pacifier for a breast

If it’s all about power, then we’ve failed the test

And Love’s gym sessions end when you run out of credit

And you can no longer lift

Your “I love you last” card

And the use of supplements

Will make your heart hard

Towards your significant other

And your greatest blunder?

Mistaking your relationship for a

Lightweight death match

And now love is dead

And all you have left is the phrase

“he was a great catch.”

By Lwazi Premo Zungu