Posted by ISIOMA ISICHEI on
WHEN I SHALL GREY
Fear twitches me in the face
Each day these closures
Unbind me and suffusion
Cracks the shroud of fervent thoughts
Doing battles in my mind to frighten
My gruesome image.
On that fateful discovery moment- cotton grey
Cessation to walk my shadow home slowly-
I shall agile my footsteps to a decline of
Normality, wall of fragments I must pack
In the liberated crypt of another living and
Sprinkles tell the hangman to trace my chapter
When the read is over and only the brink
Of death remains visible, erected time when wrinkles
Become a snare in the face, when walking stick
Becomes sufficient companion and eyelashes
Dim to cloy of webs. The feeling of done
On my door will be the suppliant cage to fester
My prided nest. The fruit shall be ripe to
Millions of reapers searing the metaphor of flesh.
Saturated atmosphere must sift pressure from
The debt of silent chimes walled in the refugee
Camp of growing old. I admire this
Constant fear. We must analyze fate
Whose spell is hallowed on fossil of providence
So nature abhors vacuum if sacrifice is shaped
On the womb of sadness, and submits trick
Accomplished to the wind in another sober
Reflection drawn from the presages of the ever
Passing time beyond the fleece of my head.