That you could hold dear and pamper loss
I do not doubt in any way at all.
That loneliness could spell unlimited freedoms,
That your companionship ruthlessly denied,
I equally do not contest in any way at all;
But I am slow to embrace unyielding causes.
Culture protected, and religion pampered
Ruthless wellspring and covenants.
I neither argue nor in any way carouse liberties
That drive envy and pity to scornful depths;
Your brain may have been infected
By the African customary virus.
Your candid wish certainly may not be
To experience the oft' harassed license
Of an innocent unbecoming widow
Nay the one that hacked her spouse
To death for dumping her food;
And I really want to think again.
But… should that be your aimless bubble?
Unconsidered, undeclared in the nattered
Effulgence and ego of restive blokes;
You may have explored the compass
To win all empathy the globe richly affords;
But don't forget aggressions
That dot the pleasures with pain.
From even the most unlikely sources.
I am unprepared to make you a guilty widow
And I will stand in your way to such descent;
As much as my good conscience can.
The separated and thrown-out are widows
As much as those that mourn the departed.
The woman who denies connubiality
For his wickedness or her graft
Is a self-made widow without separation;
That causes him to seek the bosom of a stranger.
Yet his life still avails her dignity.
Your best bet is to live like one in reality
You do not have to be one in actuality;
Let him make a grave and sombre choice
To revisit or resist youthfulness.
Let his white hairs shine and reflect
To shun and disgrace black dyestuff,
Or let the tools of the vulture's foe skin it.
I do not have to enrich undertakers
To let you live out your heart's desires
That enchant dread in the wild skein.
Those who prevailed covertly wept
Even in their wildest joys and freedoms
With torment unlimited as wardens.
If abuses from related local urchins
Are curtailed by the lovelessness
Of those you envied and cherished;
That your contempt damned and killed
While your scorned protection lasted.
It is well, and shall be dubbed the grievous goal.
You want freedom to spoil the children
You want liberty to empower footlickers,
Toads, rats, cockroaches, and spiders
That weave their rare unparagoned nests
That many hate and berate for filth.
You want to act films from your bum
Than live out your resplendent mind.
You see demons where angels tread.
What your ego banters you call sport
And you sat on the crown that dignified you
Denying your pronounced consort all liberties.
When all is set, and the seeds you planted
Grow, you will remember to blame and curse
The virtual devil you never really saw
But danced to because his music was sweet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem