My parchments know what ill is best captured in fear.
By Obongofon Etuk
When tedious days, like lingering guests abide,
My thoughts, in discontent, do hold their sway.
In fancy’s thought, I reign, a sovereign king,
Commanding worlds, and riches’ lavish ring.
I’ve sent monarchs on errands, and as God did stride,
Owned life’s bounty, nature’s beauty, side by side.
Raindrops from heaven, scents of loveliness, and fair,
Porcelain skin, all treasures beyond myth.
Yet, not today.
Alas, how frail men’s thoughts do seem,
How errant their desires, like will-o’-the-wisps’ wild gleam.
To break these chains, and find myself anew,
I’ll walk amidst the crowd, where passions do shine through.
In streets lined with wilted flowers, death’s own disguise,
I see suffering’s many names, and sorrow’s dark surmise.
A curse, once spared in pra’er, now mocks the air,
As gratitude on foolish lips do falter there.
Amidst grand homes, as beauty does enthrall,
Heaven’s promise hides hell’s despairing call.
Upon the poor’s heart, a cruel message encrypts:
“Yonder, yonder, thy desires, in yonder lies”
This is not where I come from,
where wealth’s excess does scorn,
The lowly, and the filth that they adorn.
I say, “How crippling is man’s cultural might?”
That beautiful souls, born of squalor, take delight.
I see those just as I am,
hunger laden and poor, mocking the breath of our activity, in competition for the first to die.
All is false, a pyramid of trash, and vain,
A chapter in the tome of worthless pain.
If I refrain and write with a tear,
My parchments know what ill is best captured in fear.
I’ll treasure the existence of my false desire, “in my thoughts, in my words, in what I’ve done & what I’ve failed to do, through my fault…”, in the prison of my imagination.
Obongofon Etuk is a Nigerian Poet and Pharmacist. He’s published on Brittle Paper, Pawners Paper, Spillwords Press, amongst others.