IAN DABASORI HETRI

Perception sees what reason blurs
Unceasing urgency, with an unimagined brow
Threading along the white sandy coastline of Huon Gulf
Long-lunging waves crashing in raging force

Scorching sunlight spills over the glutted sea salted leaves
Hills waver and disappear in the distance
Grains of ignited sand crack under the feet
And rumbling tummy cries in agonizing hunger

I walked on, with might of a salvaged warrior
Every step a struggle, interrogating my courage
I long to fly like the seagulls, hovering above the windy South Sea
I want to lie down and sleep forever
Like the lazy flowing Markham River

My bones are weary, drugged with numbness
My skin feels like burnt elastic sitting on fine rust nails
Stretching along the body curves that aches
Torturing spasms of weariness and thirst threatens life
My legs are giving in, answering dying prayers of my body

My heart is sinking like my feet on the sand
Pictures of decaying corpse indecorously drawn on the crumbled sand dunes
Maybe I am the next
My vision is blurry with mystical images my mind hates to decipher
Grunts and moans scribbled over the lips, but I refuse to give up

Tired, hungry and lonely, on the verge of defeat
But my mine is set. I will get there, even if I died trying
I did trying

Ian Dabasori Hetri (26) is a freelance writer from the Waria valley, sandwiched between Oro and Morobe Provinces.  He has an honours degree in agricultural science and is a candidate for a Master of Philosophy in Agriculture. But he says “forget about those papers – it is all about writing I’m passionate about”