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Friday, August 23, 2019

The Eleventh Hour

The goose who lay the golden egg, an oblation to propitiate the ire of the Capitol.
In the judgement seat he posed for inquisition.
Taunts and haunts hurled at him.
He has been given a dose of his medicine they jeered.
He'd rather not vaunt or lose his cool.
On the brink of extermination, he'll never lose faith.
Close to meeting the gatekeeper of Hades.
In despair we sink, yet he didn't blink or wink.
Had to choose between the devil and deep blue sea.
He had nothing to lose, all hell breaks loose.
At the break of dawn, the hounds have been loosed on him.
The gallows his destination.
The noose round his neck.
To the stars he turned to for salvation.
Death laughs at our loss.
Will the gods toss the coin in our favour?
Uche Nwanze
Topic(s) of this poem: escape,faith,freedom,hope,justice
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
When it seems the whole world is against you. You need strength, inner strength. When you're at your wits end, you don't you lose faith in yourself even when all hope is lost or when all have given up on you.
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