Poetry

May 22, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Reuters photo

 

By

Akuchie Ifeanyi Michael

 

 

 

Antidote

 

 

It comes slowly,

pain travelling the

unknown contours of my body.

I am weak

to the countless tongues of fire

that brand me with

insignia of he who

came, saw and fell into the

quick sands of failure.

So, Omo, sing me a

song rich with the purity

of your voice that’ll go down

in my soul and cool the

raging fire that burns uncontrollably.

Free me from pain

with the silkiness of your

voice;

i am nearly spent.

If tomorrow comes and I

become death in the eyes

of the sky and my lips

fail to break away into

specks of a runaway prayer,

sing for me.

Heal me and watch me

depart from my dark shell

into the sharp rays

of a tomorrow that find its

shape and breathe

in the pool of your voice.

 

 

 

 

 

Akuchie Ifeanyi Michael

Akuchie Ifeanyi Michael is currently a undergraduate student of the department of English language and Literature in the University of

Benin, Nigeria. He is a Nigerian poet who believes in freedom and solitude. He loves being left alone.

1 Comment

  1. musicstirsthesoul May 22, at 07:24

    I am stunned beyound belief as this is an extremely gripping, exquisite and beautifully written heartbreaking poem; I can hear the mournful cries and feel the anguish that flow as if tears streaming from our faces. This poet is incredibly gifted to bring so much deep sorrow to his work that it humbles me that a human can actually feel so much pain that the words just pour out as if a healing balm.

    Reply

Leave a Reply