Till I Die? Poem by Kolawole Victor

The depth of my love for her soul and derrière,
My genuflecting at God's presence for our unborn children,
How high and mighty I placed her in my life,
Her beauty, an addiction to make my wife.

A steal from the most beautiful ones yet to be born,
Created secretly on God's resting day,
Her absence, tears my whole Forlorn,
My once joyful self, formless and in decay.

The trappings of my heart like Fort Knox,
Pierced by the searing pangs of anguish and loneliness,
A plethora of my plebeian thoughts gnashing out of Pandora's box,
My waywardness, a befitting contrast of her holiness.

I still yearn for you, my everything everything,
I still crave for your warm embrace,
I've strayed the 4 cardinal points in minutes,
And non existential, is one that comes close to your finesse.


How much more shall i linger?
How much more shalt thou tinker?
With my heart, my life, with my smile?
Or thou waitest till I die?