Poetry

WHEN WILL I DIE?

Mysterious mysteries mystify me,
I grow curious naturally.
The truth I bitterly chew is Death.
Answers escape me of when and where and which.
A scripture says, nobody dies except by God’s permission.
Then, what of these whales amidst waters of darkness withering me with fears
Of impending doom?

I cry to the heaven,
I roar to the uproot of my very being –
To the upteeth of my soul –
(I ask) ‘When will I die?’

Multiplication of graves grieve me,
I see people I know disappear unannounced.
What are these hollow feelings of emptiness I feel when I see a dead,
A human planted like maize?
I but shed tears in my inner heart,
No mortal and immortal comfort me;
I weep, having my soul as my sole companion.
I grieve for helplessness of mortal against Divine Wills.
Yet….tell me when I will join angels in the bliss.

Constancy of the dying has brave me beyond womanishing,
I am but a patient patient of patience of Nature;
Mortaly submit to the heavens beyond.

(c) Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Jimoh Taofik Adekunle)


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