Day 23: Difficult Days

Photo: photographywest.com

The summer has passed, the harvest has ended but, we are not saved.

Sleepy leaves rustle as zephyr’s breath deftly turns the page,

Marshaling out the last article of daylight;

Another 24 neutralized.

Dilemma illustrates the dressing room of my soul

The aftermath is in small stages, grabbing a foothold.

Seeds of corrupt tendencies tell tales

Of the loss of compassion’s strum.

The dawn unveils

The spirit of warriors forlorn.

These are days of pain

But I’m not one to pass the buck or to blame.

Can’t get stuck with what the system made me;

Ain’t gon’ let the hate diagrams be my taste buds’ appeal.

Surviving in this death game means finding our way back home

Before darkness like a mighty army plunders the spoils of the soul,

And sequesters the residuum of subdued courage.

Falsity holds the control stick in this hour of nature’s eclipse

Like a terrorist manipulates his hostage.

The entrance of morning light is like a slow painful creep;

The essence of life pines away silenced in solitary.

Ill wind is blowing again,

An anniversary of misery,

A jaunt through referred pain.

That’s the succinct recital of ever day living.

There exists a constant fearful yield to the enemies of the race of man

In a time that witnesses the light of hope dimming.

Labor of love has lost its appeal for the man of valiance.

We may have sold off our souls beyond redeeming.

Akpan