THIS MORTAL BEING

Acute dirges, the pulpit and the holy inscriptions
The crash sites, indeed the going of the gone
All re-echo its realness of all realities
But man is a viator who lacks the experience of this final necessity.

Behold carnal freshness!
As the creamy massage, the daily nutrition
The escape from sunny rays into nature’s coolness
All had their course in fruition.

Cavorting, besides the carving of the hairs and beard
The pencil travels in golden colors over the lips, lashes and lids
As the long hairs relaxes behind
Beauty hails and hovers upon a hip of dust.

Damn- when at the wake keep I beheld
Handsome beauty lost in wrinkle
The nostril that praised the fumes wronged with wool
The glittering eyes firmly closed as for a transpositional gaze.

Eulogized beauty vanishes, freshness fades; the coagulation
And to babes, the same that told the tales now a nightmare
Cheerio then! we say whose turn tarries in action
But surely to come and dare.

Fables great men become, and only for memory
Beauty, only illusory
Wealth of influence and the subtle voice
Only for days that were but once.

Greetings on arrival, the clip of the codes
Of the times beyond the clouds
Either to the homes or hades bids
For as the holy to the homes so the haughty to hades

Ha! At last, it’s dawn
Vivified eternity begins for them whose conscious time
But of these, saves from oblivion’s had I known
I thought of death, yet where shall I be for even so, death is mine.

By Edebo, J Oguche.
josephoguche@yahoo.com
+23480 662 046 96
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