We walk inside dead bodies, empty and cold.
The periodic smiles are our favourite masks.
Deep down is all gloomy and utterly dark
and our inside, a hunted house
with spider webs on dusty shelves.
We cry out loud but every voice shrinks,
fades with only echoes streaming silence.
No one sees the tears that hide;
dried up by the lidside;
scared to run down molten pathways
of burning skins and shattered wills.
We are burnt to the inside.
Our feelings are ashes, homeless
carried by careleess waves.
So we sit bent sideways, slanted
cuddle close to frozen walls
like it is the place to find some love
to fix what is wrong,
fill what is gone, far away from us.
But death tells us he is God and more
so when time ticks past the hope we seek,
the hanging ropes, the falling blades
the raging waters, the silent bay and the cliff tops
are the order of the day, so here we lay
telling the Reaper “Hey”
Those moments when our souls are crushed
and all left are the rubbles and ruins- dancing dust,
the slightest touch of love,
the faintest whisper of “Hello”
might just be the lyrics
that give reasons to hold on a while;
to live again from the inside
to give unjust life another chance
and save the walls the burden
of carrying our heavy bodies
-for another day.
Author: Anuoluwa Soneye
Anuoluwa Soneye is a 400Level student of the Department of English, Obafemi Awolowo University. He is a lover of literature and a writer of poetry and short stories.