Taken from me

= 1158

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

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