But In The Dark Poem by Akinrinola Tosin Emmanuel

POEM: BUT, IN THE DARK!
POET: AKINRINOLA TOSIN EMMANUEL


Morning, Afternoon and Night makes up a day,
Night here doesn't mean am talking about the dark,
But trying to explain something complicated.
My first impression was, looking far and wide
I Could hardly think of anything because thought are full in my mind,
What on earth could I explain this to? ?
All I see is the thick, tiny road, but, in the dark.


Yes, in the dark i walk all alone,
There I saw a little boy, sitting all alone, well I could call him a vagabond,
Yes, in the dark he sat, crying, looking lonely.
I was scared to move up to him, Cus it was a thick darkness.
I looked so dismay, so pale and confuse.


Oh little boy, as I say, who are you?
Why art thou sited there all alone?
Are you a Wonderer? A vagabond as presumed by me earlier?
In a loud voice he replied, A voice that move the darkness in the forest.
He said "I meet my shadow in the darkest shade;
I hear my voice in the lowly Wood
A lord of nature weeping to a tree.
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den"
All this happened not in the broad light but, in the dark.


Looking around, hearing the Scary sound of birds, And the woo-woo Sounds of trees.
I looked comported, need to conquer my fear, Then he continues
In the dark i stand alone, In the dark i live alone,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
And live in places among the rocks at times cave, Or winding path, The edge is what I have.
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.


I have made hours change habits and late seeps
into early and rain, in another part of this
country, suddenly, heavily falls, flattens seams,
frays and splits them like I did away from a lover once
The only person who recognized me for a thousand miles,
The only one who knew where I was, And
then not, Is the thick darkness


After hearing all this, my heart begins to see,
My leg begins to shake, Not moving but wish it move,
I wake and feel the fell of dark,
Yes i woke up, it a dream that happened in the dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness i speak this. But where i say is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent to me from the dark, but in the dark, things are unpredictable.