2 replies to this topic

[Breadfruit]

The assassin struck, without warning. Death collapsed into a lifeless heap, shaking the houses, hills, seas; the entire world shook.

The beautiful spell Death wove, was broken with his demise. "Death is dead", the crowd cried out, wondering what would now become of them.

The scared masses screamed for the return of their good friend, the one who had given their life soo much meaning.

Through starvation, torture, ignorance, Death had held hands, freezing atoms, with a reality that made journeys more bearable. Death made suffering define its own end; know peace, understand freedom.


"In Death's face, his eyes, one could see a perfect understanding of what life could be", the mourners wailed, "a darkness, infinite in depth and aesthetic brilliance", they continued, faces and hands to the sky, feet firmly on the ground.

The murder of Death caused the people, soo much trauma, that they all began to die, slowly. For how now, could they ever be saved, by their dead saviour?

Breadfruit

[Mogho Naaba]

Interesting poem.

[Toyin]

@Breadfruit

Simply superb.