A Wrathto None Poem by Wesongah David

Should you for a single day,
Forget me.

You know all you promised me,
And not that I expect it all to come true,
But in a fair equality of jove’s own wrath,
Forget me on a slow autumn morning,
In the arms of one else from me,
Then let sails break forth in sunken winds,
And fold you to an untoward shell,
Should you forget me.

Should you For a single day,
Forget me.

In keeping a faith alive,
The knowledge I shall never forget you,
In the mad estates of bedlam,
Walking on those isles of rugged inspiration,
Swept ashore by mermaids in disbelief,
Then face the wrath of irreverence alone.
And waddle deep into neglected sanities,
Of self adoration and narcissistic ablution,
Should you forget me.


Should you for a single day,
Forget me

In the wake of a covering realization,
Destined fate sealed on my finger,
A raw sweetness rosier by fancy,
And pretend,
To forget me in a dire epitomes of self dalliance,
For a truth in me that will never come to a close,
Is a chapter of you, and you and me,
A love fed on your passion,
A passion ignited by your love,
Then,
Just come back to me.