Three tombs of Solitude.

Three tombs of Solitude.

Seamless clouds breeze and twinkle,
As water shoots disentangle from their piers,
Contouring on tidal cuttings in my soul.
I look upon the horizon and I’m cold,
Nothing sings, even birds resort to intense shrills.
I’m trapped in solitude, light burdens me.
Further than tears at dawn, rain withers my frame
While the assault of my deviation
tramples me.
I’m all alone, burning like the flight of a bat,
For the chaos of humanity sinks to
oblivion.

The void of the assault of my lone journey,
And the misty trinkets of my damped
lantern,
Avoids me like a plague promising
gems from the unknown.
My dearest haven, pen berated on
loins of my trudge.
Ah! something like gall in the
comforts of my soul,
Moors against the hearth gurgling my
brains.
For what seems like a faint wisp of
my empire,
Remains my unspoken ruins, jealous of
my incessant darkness.
How terrible, difficult and furious as
stormy tides,
And winged melancholy I sip from the
wind’s portal.

There is the fallen grace of my vision.
There is the slapping ambition of my
mission,
But I want to be alone if only I could
paint the world,
Sometimes from my feet and walk by
my hands.
Introspection weeps at my hapless-
lordly journey,
Interwoven by my flaming angst,
present and intense.
How should I cease to exist,
unfastened from my strand of life,
When I have never supplanted a
caterpillar in living.
I seem like a perpetual problem and
as I stare at the water,
Rhetoric marathon downwards evokes
clarity into my system

© Eddy Ongili

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