I stumbled into this poem, I wrote four years ago. It is centered around poets being gods and how sadly immortal they are. The prominent theme of pessimism in the piece poses serious concern and disturbance. It’s appalling in that it depicts the total end of fellow god. Let’s dive into it already.
THE DEATH OF A GOD poets, we are gods, we are, We are men and women who can give life to dead words.
with muted tongues full of ancient wit, we roar into the deafness of emotions
and rattle the dry bones of wrongs
I see clouds gathering
and the sun’s retiring melancholy lyrics interlude yet another doomthe night; she is the doom
with a cloak of darkness wrap around her bald head
she strip tease the body of a weary scribbler
until his soul is made naked
and his body unaware
like a procession of mourners,
this melancholy lyrics assails the departure of a god
stretched on a bed of stones
I see clouds gather and waters clot as stillness greet the streets with goodbye songs
I see a barren night sky with no glitzy stars I see royal glamour fading
I see dust encroaching his orchard of verses
mother earth swallow up a god
in a single gulp
as a PENalty for being born
we, his fellow muted scribblers will keep spooling words until mortality betrayed us
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Jaachi Anyatonwu is a poet, editor, and publisher living in the suburbs of Aba. He is the author of numerous poetry chapbooks and collections, and the Editor-In-Chief of Poemify Publishers Inc. Jaachi is passionate about discovering new voices and mentoring emerging poets. He is also a fierce advocate for the boy child and sexually molested.
We are all on our own journeys and no one’s journey is more special or any more worthwhile than the next person’s. Know that if you break down it does not mean that you’re weak or that you’re not worthy.