Letter from a bereft soul

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
we all sometimes want to give excuses for our mistakes and errors even when the evidence is against it, we have to own up to mistakes, that's my reason for this work.

Submitted: April 19, 2016

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Submitted: April 19, 2016

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Letter from a bereft soul

Mudiaga-Maxwell Iki

 

How which I could write you this letter my brethren

It will definitely seem like

A description

Of the prophetic imaginations

You have been nursing about me all this while,

It will seem like

A Live magazine issue

Published for the sole purpose

Of portraying my unguided person—

This restless creature in me

Who combat your principles in intervals—

It will soon become a chorus

Been sang on market days

In market places

And the chorus will be re-echoed by school children:

On their way back from school,

Because it will be all about me and my creature

 

How which I could write you this letter my brethren

It might just seem that

This righteousness you see me portray

While around you is nothing but

A fake flare!

Maybe it may appear as an album

Portraying straying pictures of an inexperienced lamb

Still clinging to mother sheep’s breast,

Maybe it may seem like

A detailed memory

Of my first time with you,

Or possibly it might look like

A penance

Just an act to renew my vision

To be admitted into that yonder city

The golden blue city of Azure

Were the crystal waters

Run with just a simple echo

And the stallions and unicorns

Glide away in freedom!

 

How which I could write you this letter my brethren

Won’t it amaze you when it reminds you

Of all my initial bridge-crossing fright

Iki Mudiaga-Maxwell Aghogho

Towards shepherding the myriad flocks

You left under my care?

It might even nearly attempt to reveal

My then burning heart ripping question

“How can a lamb shepherd

A myriad flocks?”

Maybe it may give you an insight

To view my baseless anger,

That erupting anger

I often targeted towards you

For your not tailing my placental

To its origin

Funny enough you may even recognize

My burning chance

In wanting to cling with you,

My brethren

 

How which I could write you this letter my brethren

It may portray the experience

Of snow storm a -3°C day,

Possibly like a tortured blister

Entertained with a blazing knife,

Like towering an office

On unstable shoulders

Maybe it may appear as

A fruitless argument between my blood and creature

Or in appearance

Like a bunch of funny papers

A bunch of jigsaw

And just another jackass renovation

 

How which I could write you this letter my brethren

It would be too sad to conceive

Oh! Sad me,

Unfortunately

It would be too tempting

And almost too tempting

Not to be taken serious

 

 

 


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