The Shepard's Of Arcadia 6 Poem by Felix Emeka George

My dear people,
Every day and night
I prayed to no avail
Now I know,
I am like a snake railing
Under the trees of these ridges
In dismayed I turned me.

This death on this earth,
My people, Is a terrific idea
And Incredible to me.

The thing is that I am in this space
Like an unwanted weed in farmland
Flung on the bare foot track
For men and women march past,
Than the stream in Dry up channels
By day and night
weather my solace waiting

The rain is coming,
Where do I borrow a scarf?
A Handkerchief of courage,
To wipes my eyes of tears.
I shall not cry myself to grave
For I guess a bed
That is the best yet to come
I would part as from a trouble dream,
Untethered by the memory of it
And forget not to lie to slumber,
Never to awaken

As scattered trance whilst driving foot
On this state of life where my foot-light,
And my spot light fails to print
The step of the world as a thick mist