It took me time to hoard it up
The bride price for the one I loved
My unforsaken efforts bespoke of my want
To bring my love home.
Not long before I made love to her
My own home I manufactured
With great dreams of my only family
The fruits of my loins
To love and cherish the unrealized dream
Of relinquishing my thirst upon her
Because her caustic beauty never ceased
The beauty that maddened men.
As I struggled to pay my junky debts
Little did I know the discretion of him
He that intentively courted my love
He that jealously plotted for our disengagement
Ignorance veil my illiterate brain
That I lost the perfect edges of figures
Tears compromised with me meanwhile
Because the secrecy was too deep
For substantial cowards of might to understand.
Not long before she left me unforgivingly
Sighing in silence of her sleep
Not hinting me that she was leaving
To lands far away unknown to her
Leaving me in parody of agony
Misunderstanding her intentions of desertion.
Languishing in plenty jaws of desolation
Failing to expound on meaning of life
Whether I was to pay those debts forever
Debts of absence of a loved one.
Her death denied me the aromatic breath
She left me on the verge of crying
The reason my future blurred
Into strenuous creases of impossibilities
Because she was my first love
I sold my only coat
I rented my only shoes
I mowed grass for her
I endured malice and scorn
Only to get my loved one home.
But what happened?
He that had no mercy took her away
Without considering my undivided attention
Without caring for the sobs I have
Without minding the predicament I would face
And the hate and anger of losing her
Her that my heart beat in
Her that my sorrows drowned
Her that my ugliness willowed
Her that made my life happy
Because I only wanted happiness in life.
How should I move on and forget it
Without dying in hope and motivation?
How should I live without armistice?
Should I abandon the fate easily?
Should I ruin the suspense?
Or should I bargain for happiness
From the successful happiness merchants?
If only I could be a spirit
I could wander and join my love
For in her lies the true love I wanted
But poor me,
Dichotomous with swine and pests
Of resilience and practical injustice
Pondered on my weak little back bone
That I may crumble
Even though resent it
She still speaks in my blood
She masquerades in my every vessel
Full with glory of a savior
The savior I really needed
But poor me;
The salvage was illusion I can’t endure!
-photo credit: africanspotlight