Poet's Curse

I groan in the pain

my fingers unlocked

I shoulda stopped

at the first word

No! Rather at the first train of thought

It rocks my body electric

It knocks me into a concussive

state of mind where reality

is dragged kicking and screaming

into a cesspool of the fictive

My fingers composed my misery

because I would not turn a blind eye

to the curse in a dead man's eyes

I am god in a zone of twilights

Shall I chop off my fingers

cause it offends yours truly?

Shall I resolve to murder

And indulge self-mutiny

I will soon die

than live a lie

Yet, what I shall choose

is solace of the words which bruise

my soul and blow my fuse.

Akpan