The Ending Poem by Adeosun Olamide

When I, not resurrecting, decaying
I unburden myself, stripped
Looking here, not looking away
Here to the bruises, the scars
To the offspring's of our love
They too deserve thy sight
And away- a little from the beauty
The conjectures, falsehood of memory
And away- the beauty that shall before die
Peep on- where the windows fell
What veil- your sorrow worn
What were before mask that veils your angst
The hollow that no longer spring thy hate
All in bravery, out of youth-
The youth new mornings shall sap
But they too, undeserving thy thought
Will, starved the depth gaze- die
Yet you too, wanting some things new
Why roses sate thy thirst once
Why once, a touch brought your heart to skip
Yet you too, wanting- different
Will leave this seas oesophagus
The shattered glasses- that sustains us
And like you were, wanting few-
Rough matter in wasted space
The desert, its peace, the valley, its hollow
Or do scarcely seeing, see something different
Mist, blur- expired lenses, dead sense,
In the faded inks, the ragged letters-
Find someplace old- a rag to live in
Yet where in the hide and seek-
-A mechanical fault
From the impression of death, doctors, gods
Only the ambiance of grave could heal-
Where- should I, endure my decay?
Raise if must leave, from the dust,
A resurrection into the mindlessness,
Endless cleanse the rust I am imprisoned-
Exhale upon me, your breathe-
In the reach of my soul, rotten
The venoms that shall eat my decay
But if I, fair in disdain, worthy in thee- disgust
Spend on- no moment to my thought
If I, spend thy ceaseless on thy tomb
Filling the barrenness with thy memory
Which ‘gainst tides disremembrance- daily sails
To bliss, to endlessness hold-
To the ignorances your heaven thrives