Poem -

Bury Me, Darkness Bury me

Bury Me, Darkness Bury me

I have a fear
Only one. 
Not that of death
Not that of sorrow 
Neither is it of tomorrow
I have a fear that it will one day be night forever 
That it will be the setting of the sun all over 
I have a fear that the faces I saw at dinner 
Wouldn't be the faces that will show me the way 
It was beauty and bliss to love 
Heavenly and honest to be loved 
I have a fear I was in debt before darkness came 
Nobody will close the gates when I am gone 
I heard the news May McCoy had a daughter 
I had prayed so she could have one for me
But I have Olivia, And she has a smile that heals me
She has a sarcasm that bemuses me
My fingers know the fire of the future 
It burns, it burns everything I know of the past
My eyes know the visions of tomorrow
Tomorrow is a mirror reflecting unfinished yesterday

But this darkness came calling 
Called out my name and my soul
Called out my pain and suffering
It called out the very beautiful elements of my life
This is my fear 
This that which I have seen to be light 
Could one day be dark and darkness forever 
An irony of my complexion 
An agony of my frail, chasm of a heart
What I lost in the fire of my flesh 
I thought my ghost will find in the ashes of my Psalms
I have a fear, I do not have a ghost and a Psalm 
All I have...all I have, All I ever have…
Was this fear, that loving you is an eternal darkness 
One which I will not see the light of day in. 

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Comments

author
Dayo Ige

Sadly, it does hit harder in reality. 

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author
al Bikaadi

"Tomorrow is a mirror reflecting unfinished yesterday" --- what a line!!! ‚̧

'This that which I have seen to be light
 Could one day be dark and darkness forever
 An irony of my complexion."

(as a writer, I always get frustrated by the default associations of "black" and "dark" and "colour" .... So hard to use neutrally without people misapplying connotation. But you have done a great job of dismantling it.

Love can open up chasms so deep that light does elude us. ūüė°

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author
Dayo Ige

Al, a writer's mind is a complex labyrinth, one which common reasoning wouldn't find a way to understand, but you arrived at the very end of this interwoven path by seeing through the prismatic point of view. 

Thank you. ūüíĮūüíĮ

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