It was magic
and sweet
Coexisting
to fight the conflict within
It was a
voice that readily said no
Afraid of
the confines of these walls
A mar of
the real world,
Ridden out
of existence from the minds of mortals
From the
thoughts of an afterthought
Of a world
or an afterworld, that may exist
To dye the
paint of the picture conceived
A ruin of a
model built.
It was
melody and a bit of melancholy
Indeed a
trek down the south just to fetch water from the oil-spilt rivers
Of Rivers
and Bayelsa
It was a day
full of despair for hope
Rage for
both, that they happen so fast
And we
couldn’t control ourselves not to cry
Not even for
the abomination that thrives.
It is
without pain and regret that I seek a redress
Like the
cows of egret I fallow deep depths
Consumed by
their sins, though I, a saint
Chase tomorrows
from thence
I speak of
stars and say “Wait for no stars from men
Chase away
the chariots they send
To elope our
senses”
For they
knew I was fond of souls
I was,
because I was raised with stones
Heartless and
cold, even to the wise and the old
But the path
I chose I fought to forget
And when my
eyes become red, the memories appear
My heart
becomes a deer’s
So small and
so dear, humbled by the spears that seek to destroy it
I was close
to dying and the fear of it
Something
must have prompted me to stay
In this
dying world.
It was
basking and good if you’re asking
It was the
only seedling of hope left
I carried
the sounds and the smoke of fires
That burned
throughout the time I was a boy
I told my kids
to stay away from the windows
Where they’d
see the rotten world and envy it
Mine is to
protect posterity sterilely
And let men
bury their old without mincing.
It was about
sweetness and starters
Starting small
and making big impressions
Waving exceptions
for family and friends
Who are
about the twelfth-hour
It was with
a bridge of words and loyalty
That I take
away self, submissively without saying
But my
thoughts will often go to strangers in strange places and I
Will forget
family and friends for strangers
“There is a
lot to be done” I would often say
This was
sweeter; the kisses they gave,
The fishes
they grilled for a helping hand.
But tonight is
not the night I dry away my tears
Or follow
the path or touch my wife’s silky body
Tonight I
conquer my strength and fade my weakness
That I may
be called a man
Because with all these bears I was only a child.
15:51:00
