Tears! I was told I ne’er let
a drop from my bent brows,
but not at times like this.
I was told I ne’er raised
a cloak to veil my eyes
but not to him I vex my weeping heart for.
Who to that pit for which I must someday follow
has gone too soon, too sudden, too early
whose musing utterly loathes me of sleep.
My tears gush heavily; they come in floods –
unashamed and wild, sorrowful and bitter;
a broken heart bleeds no blood but tears.
Ediongse! Ediongse! Why is Death’s craving
to fill his stomach, yet his appetite is ne’er satisfied?
Why do Good die young? Why have you abandoned us?
© Ugo Nkwoala. 2019. All rights reserved.
With a broken heart the earth closed on your coffin today, may Jehovah in his infinite mercy keep you in his memory for the love you’ve shown for his name.
Lad! Remember that no man ought to forgeta child’s tender youth is like tempering of waxapt to receive form – discipline before affectionmix threats with a fair look, manner with wit. A potter fashions his lay when it’s softa sparrow taught to come when younghot iron by a hammer’s stroke begets formand keeps it forever […]
4 It was the stuff of a satire, were it not painfully true. Nnenne sat silently on a black-spotted Ankara patterned sofa surrounded by chattering friends and coworkers. She and a handful of friends at Lolo’s urging – her childhood friend and workmate, had gathered at her residence to celebrate a hard-fought promotion greeted with […]
© Ugo Nkwoala |Spilledwoords.org | 2020