Death, Please Don't Take Me Poem by Ndimancho T Nyowikeh

Death, please don't take me,
I am not too young to die,
Yet too old to leave without pleasing my father.
Have mercy, let your hand skip me.

The poison in the cup waits silently,
The sorcerer watches with gleaming eyes in the mirror.
The envious whisper of fame that will soon come my way.
Death, so many daggers awaits my head.

Please, Death.
I am not too young to die,
But too old to fade without leaving a mark.
You are a necessary end,
That will come when you will come,
But let me, too, have my name inscribed before you arrive.

In my marble lies a plethora of untold stories.
Do not take me yet, for posterity waits
To read the lines I have traced with trembling hands.
I hold the unspoken moral,
The truths too fragile to speak aloud.
Death, please… hear my appeal.

NDIMANCHO T. NYOWIKEH
Friday 14th November 2025
Up-station Bamenda