Lost || An Original Poetry
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Immersed in slandering thought
peasant remorse, like when
undeserving tears from a widow's eye drops
lusted after a shadowy sun
life is a thorn in the flesh, to be cut short
but need to own all in a blister
wrapped essence of summer in disaster
winter withers,
like dried leaves on the eve of harmattan.
On a quest to finding one's self
how did we get here?
questions that begets aforementioned ridicule
confusion peaked like a smiling hunger, but misunderstood,
useless as pencils in a brute crusade of rewriting history
abstract serenity rallying a mile journey,
like beautiful pain clothed in an apparel of mischief
gold diggers or goal driven,
are both not same and appealing?
Ears to the wall,
picking up sounds like an idle talk
blooming flower from the meridians
of understanding,
unmasked as stupidity kept unfolding,
and finally, a tear to the veils in the eye,
not one brave enough, to watch it all burn on a pyre
dampened senses dampens,
as logical reasoning rides the horse of history, but trends forgotten.
Written and edited
By @aduragbemi
Erinkitola A. Aduragbemi
28th October, 2019
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