Paroxysm Poem by Michael Oluwasegun Adesiji

•Paroxysm•

If I cease to live
The one who will cry the most
Is the bed upon which I sleep
My bed knows all about my ordeal
She comforts my weakness
And she swallows
Every drop of my tears
She will miss our embrace
And our chats
She will be lonely
With her friend apart

If I cease to live
My pen will miss its pal
My compendium; meet its end
But, if men choose to read
They will find the living piece of me
In pieces, englued to the faces
Of my papers of doom
My poems will tell of a heathen
To whom nothing matters, but peace.

If I cease to live
My time will tell of the times
I lived within the shackles
Of life and her worries
Weeping with her eyes watching
She will be sad to leave my wrist
She will be sad I eventually
Lost my beats
With hers ticking still

If I cease to live
Another demon; the heavens
Will receive
But, I have decided to live
And not leave
To shame life and its worries
To stand tall with a firm believe
That the pages of life shall be flipped
With a barton passed
From joy to worries
From worries unto joy
And from joy unto victory
For resilience and persistence
Remains the stake to be raised
Before the golden line
Of our earthly race.

©M.O.A

Onyedikachi: The Cub To The Seven Gods