OF THINGS THAT BECOME OUR SHADOW BY UNDILUTED POET

Of things that become our shadow
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I burn my body with fire
Dripping from cold silence
Anytime i see a woman
Carrying a body, beautified with her demons
It reminds me of times
That dried the being in my mother
With songs, played on the keys of lame memories
Times that taught me to look back in time
In search of things that draw men
Closer to the left hand of God
Things like the sadness in the eyes of a boy
Embedded in the throat of a bird
Stranded between pages of the wind
Like the voice trailing a girl's skin
With the echoes of her father's last prayer
There are things that leave their footprints
In our hearts, through the openings on our skins
Where a boy once stood before a mirror
& saw the reflection of his soon-to-burn body
Where lost girls sleep on bed of stones
Hoping the moon call they home
Where water is a way into tales
That does not hold the bodies of women
Living their dead for survival
Women- dressed in black
Weeping with their children's portraits
These things are the dark images
Projected on a surface in our veins
Where light is blocked by the shades of darkness
Darkening our sights to the other side of the world
Where men sit with angels on a piano
Recreating life with songs holding candles to dark rooms
Songs on the tongue of birds with rainbow wings
Songs rising into the heavens with melodious sounds of hallelujah
These things are the reflected images
In the eyes of men, transformed into burnt names
And into the heat wrecking the sky
With flames from cities, surrounded with walls painted with grieve
These things are the memories of the dead
Sneaking into silent places in our bones
Where everything smell of blood and burnt history.
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© Olabisi Abiodun Akinwale
Undiluted Poet
#UndilutedPoetry