The moon
seek solace in nowhere,
The day’s
uncertainties,
knows me best
No word
is enough to quantify
my despair.
Fear of love
turned hate,
Fear of life
hanging on a
hair strand of death,
Fear of
morrow-full
certain uncertainties,
Fear of
being dead alive,
Fear of
living while dead,
dead not to the flesh
but the belly worms
And the fear
of the long cold, lonely
nights at grey hair.
The eyes
drips tears,
the heart bleeds,
the head heavily pounds,
to the chantlike beat of a wounded heart.
Help me,
I too terrified,
how life goes on,
leading to uncertainty…
Roseline Sunday is a student, writer and a spoken word poet. She loves reading, travelling, writing, cooking, meeting people and making new friends. She is a volunteer at Literary clan, festival poetry Calabar, Poets in Nigeria (PIN) and lots more; 3rd place winner at the museum day debate competition held in 2013 and an addicted lover of God. You can reach her via social media on: Facebook: Roselyn Sunday Instagram: roselynsunday
