Christian Tobechukwu Okafor
Living With A Stranger
The sun weakens, the moon strengthens,
Resolve of my elbow ebbs down.
Thus, to nature’s call I lunge forth
To hug my home for a quiescence
But too bad hug I a stone face
Which nearly stones out my life’s breath,
Stone shivers coursing down my spine.
Sorely, I lay my head anest,
My sore face craned away from her,
My heart so heavy with the wound,
But try calm I my sp’rit for rest.
The night fares off, morn bids onwards
Though ne’er assured of better end.
How’ver, thanks for fresh hope at least.
To the day’s calling I wake up;
’gain I stand up to my now fiend,
My once ever-thought sweetest friend.
So, I dash out for a fresh breath,
My little orb gay to its breadth.
Sun dusks, moon dawns; I’m enfeebled
As I face ’gain my reality.
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