My Carved Out Story



Chukwukwe Eugenia Adaku

Could swear it, I am become nothing that ever I was before, Torn down by an angel with shattered wings, Attempting to reach home again, Stolen eternity in a purchased lie, Caught between compassion and denial in a twisted form, Reaching depths of hell where there’s
only dark, Wrapped in her wings I breathe love into her chest, Intoxicated by the beauty of a single action criminal, Could she return to heaven or do I have to burn it down…
Once upon a theory of love ago, I dreamt of dwelling in unity with the church, Sadly my pierced body in the middle of the human reclamation project is unfashionable attire, Just as the black hopper spider dancing upon my fingers assisting in the typing of these letters, We hate what aids us expand and adore what numbs our hearts to comfortable realms of pacifists lethargic peace, Full thinking is irrelevant we’re bought into comparison and gossip as we sit side by pew as screw tape judges. Transition of opposing moral factions, Join the dissent into decrepit carpe diem moments or rise to become that which only exists in dreams, Loss of
memory: prelude to awareness failure, Adapt to smile or frown your life away, I recall the moment my ignorance got rapped, Became a convict for equality in the aftermath of compassion’s seed implanted gestating in the heart. She spoke with me from below the sky, Her wings became mine, Stumps of coral scars crimson stained beautiful pock marks adorn our backs, So I ask you now, Can angels from demons become heaven’s knights once again, Samurai who delved into the pitch to carve out their hearts in order to feel love, Redemption for every soul, How far would you go…?
© Aecons

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