Beneath the throbbing sun rays
Cascading all in her zestful angst,
I sigh upon the fate of men and the days
When all shall stand nigh death’s precipice,
The cliff of life, and relentlessly thrust
To the afterlife… few shall be at peace.
But now is that longing not longed for,
To kiss upon the immortality and more.
For man to contemplate his Creator and his oar
Of destiny upon the waters of time.
Nay, let us alone in our fleeting prime,
We are feasting nihilist without crime.
Judge not now, thou swindling hypocrite.
For you have also suckled upon her teat.
In sentient romance you did grovel at her feet,
As you pillaged her raiment for pleasure.
Life hath you caressed in feigned disdain.
Hmmm… let the loathsome alone at his leisure,
In that fiery wrath of Sheol abounds no rain,
There is no shelter: torment above measure.
Image Credit: Google
Emeka doesn’t like to talk about himself in the third-person, he thinks it’s weird and uncomfortable. So Emeka will stop now… but before then, you should know Emeka is a disciple of Jesus. I find solace in the recluse of sagely contemplations; to make meaning of knowledge. Is youth wasted on the young? Or wisdom on the old? A mystery…