You care for the mob
The things I’d do for love;
Death by a thousand words
You’d take for this acceptance.
Life is a man dancing to his death.
My life is you dancing through
steep hills of acceptance, navigating
through these deep clouds of fog
That gags us, to come when I go.
For many days, I am caught in turmoil
in disarray do I embrace
this weary bed.
But one day, it is of no concern
into your haven of victory
I drift, to your brothers
whose hands are hard,
Their breath clamored with
a repeated song that tongues
a parasitic ease; to come again.
A baby is born
as my body caresses the casket,
with my scars notched
as your mark, in this, the mob finds
an incisive edge to fear
more poignant than their fear;
extreme veneration. For your life
signifies the foot of the hills
has plans in store for them.
Fear gouged out morbid levels
of tenderness in them; the mob
discusses all your good things.
That is acceptance, after all.
My death is an unending need
to be discussed by your mob.
for I am Abiku and your words of praise
bring me flesh. Again.
Read Also==>“Nigeria” — A Poem by Bianca Kate Orieku