Dark Thursday <br />Forsake not O Lord <br />Forsake not I implore <br />For your servant, the gifted with the pen, <br />Has gone gaga I fear. <br />For fear of failing in duties he decided to carry out justice <br />And slay that precious gift you gave him…Life! <br /> <br />He lamented gibberishly and bemoaned his fate <br />As if in a trance, to all and yet none <br />In secret he was beseeched and dampened with tears <br />By the fair daughter of Eve <br />But on a heart stone cold her pleas were shattered. <br /> <br />In the open he was implored <br />By she and the world that cared <br />But this time, it brewed a storm <br /> <br /> <br />Trashing and opposing like a wild beast, <br />He poured out his misery in torrents <br />Minding not whatever blocked his path. <br />And for fear of aborting his plans, threatened a duel. <br />Not even a thousand army could pin him down. <br /> <br />And like one being chased by hounds of hell, <br />Bolted from the clutches of intruders into darkness <br />That fateful Thursday <br /> <br />A lapse in time… <br />Tension… <br />Disaster…Rearing its head. <br />Fear of the unknown, reaching a crescendo! <br /> <br />Until the descent of Eve herself to appeal and appease <br />Proved magic to pacify his rage and quieten the storm. <br /> <br />Yet the day is gone and tomorrow knows not its harvest. <br />So goes the fate of our beloved, <br />A victim of fear. <br /> <br />Forsake not O Lord, <br />Forsake him not I implore. <br />Your servant, <br />The gifted one with the pen.<br /><br />macaulay akinbami<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chinwe-azubuike-3/
