Words are emotions birthed in the grave quiet of the heart.
This day, words have betrayed my lips.
Yet, the rivers of ink in my pen shall flow in rhythm
To the shooting pulse of my aggrieved heart.
Even as my parched voice can’t make a requiem,
To your fading spirit, a worthy dirge my pen will scribe.
O dear one of noble spirit
Safe transit my heart bids you
Alas! Poor death has been defeated amore!
Behold! The heavens merry
At the porch, the cherubs and seraphs tarry
Agog, they long for your homecoming.
Tunefully, you taught the nightingale to approach melody with grace
It was you who taught the cats to saunter in enchanting gaits.
And the stallion to trot the earth with charming elegance
Dear, if the sun rise not on morrow’s morn
Then, it’s you she mourns
Dwell in Yahweh’s warm bosom
Ride quick on the wings of the clouds, I pray you.
Fade away as I quench the flame of my pen.
Adieu, precious spirit.
*This verse is dedicated to a colleague who lost her twin brother some few days ago. I pray God grants her and the entire family the fortitude to bear this colossal loss. Amen.
Written by: Adebayo D’Redeemd Smartfingers
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.