Melancholy  searches of our patches

impending death emanating danger

ecstatic of tomorrow we sold desolated

Our heart beat no more bathos of hope

the family bell summoned us no more

our spirits haunting and hunting of a land

which no indigent of optimism stay…

The strange cry, the empty look

The stream-of-no-consciousness are we!

Transience of another being of thought.

Vanity is in the air, tranquility seen by,

issues of the hearts, tales of bubbles.

Glamorous buddies of yesterday,

our dreams were horrible, mother touched.

Why is Dad suddenly so pale and sickly?

Why do we speak differently with our spirit?

We looked into ourselves without even a smile.

We are silent,  foreboding silence of the

lyrics of elegy and ode.

Our silence spoke Millions from our eyes,

for fear ruled the night we looked into ourselves.

Sarcasm of our satirical corded persons,

rolled it last for the silent.

Death smelled here and there,

pity was in the eyes of the night!



Chiyelu is not here and we were not told!

She ought to lead the morning prayers –

Why is Papa crying and pointing in the air?

Why is mother panicking and panting?


Where is Chiyelu my golden sister?

Where is she, has she joined the stars?

Is our discoveries a fairy tale?

After the wildest beauty of this world,

dust comes in mind in tales boys tell.

By her dead smile I knew all was not well.


Where is Chiyelu?


I am going to join her there to

thicken this foreboding silence.


©John Chizoba Vincent






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