I have not been like this,
so save me the embarrassment of your bliss.
I live in a world,
where I own my words
and project them like religion,
even when it’s my own opinion.
I have swallowed a thousand rejections
before learning how to spell hope again.
I am a stranger to bodies of celebrations
for I was born with a skin christened pain.
I am not your favorite witness,
as this soul has never shaken hands with kindness.
I am a father seeking survival,
but my soul craves for a urgent revival.
I am the lost son of the creator of air,
for I choose the gospel of despair.
I am the light anchored on redemption,
a body of water with ripples to arrest stagnation.
I am despair,
questioning unending sufferings,
moral existence and the rhythm of woes on humanity.
There’s a way to live
and never see death;
ask your ancestors
who walked this glorious path.
There’s a way to sing
and draw the spirit of grace;
ask the praise singers
who sang for the spirits of the night.
There’s a way that seems right,
but easy ways lead to destruction.
There’s a spirit that guides the night –
it’s a place where hearts dance in celebration.
There’s bliss here,
but immortality over there;
ask the spirits of your ancestors
when they come visiting again.
Maxwell Onyemaechi Opia-Enwemuche is an enigmatic poet, a storyteller, and a novelist who writes from Port Harcourt, Nigeria. He writes mostly on depression, suicide, sensuality, humanity, Boy Child, Rape, life, death and above all, Love. He believes in the mutual existence of humanity for the sake of peace to heal the world. His manuscript, ‘Ozemena!’ a collection of the Nigeria-Biafra civil war was published electronically by Poemify Publishers.