“Humans all over the world are living everyday like gods and immortals!” Preaches the preacher
Like peacocks and Kings
We walk with so much poise!
Talk and act with such mastery and finesse;
Every minute trying to outdo ourselves
Prove to the heavens and the earth we the best there is…
“In a split second my brethren, at the command of the Lord beloved, we are done!”
Just like that!
Like a faded full stop on a paper
Like a beautiful flower stamped on the ground
Like a diamond ring lost on the vast desert;
We are no more!
“So much for so little brethren!”
But do I care?do you?do we?
After all, it’s not our picture on the obituaries
It is not our feature on the eulogy!
Why would you care?
At least not!
Not until we lose one of our own
One who dwelt among us,
Danced with us!
One who laughed just as loud
Loved us much as we did in return!
One with whom we designed tomorrow.
“Not until we lose the one whose sky, just like ours, didn’t show any sign of neither setting nor horizon!”
That’s when we realize we are just but dust.
Our wives (husbands)
All that we are
All that we hold so dear to our hearts
All this wealth we own,
It is just but dew on grass;
Dries and withers at any a time!
“And what shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” Preach on Preacher!
Like a soldier having survived combat;
We return home after the funeral
Drench with humility and reflections
Armored with resolute resolutions
And goal towards a virtuous life and righteous living!
“That we may see the goodness of the Lord in Jannah(paradise)!” Halleluya!
Hehe! Save your own (soul) Preacher!
Our holytide, salvation and grace
Lasts as far as the mourning ends!
When the tears fade along with the departed names
Right before the inking on the graves,
We flip on to new pages and charter new series and chapters;
Forsaking folktales, lessons learnt and vows sworn yesterday on days to come.
We continue living,
Without a thought on the aftermath.
“Oh what a shame dear sister! What a shame my brother, should we not find you among us after the resurrection?”
Ha! Heaven may as well be a poetic illusion Mr. preacher!
A blue lie garnished with a white garment of saints and angels.
Happily ever after is merely ‘a legend of mirth’ reverend!
We are only guaranteed this moment we breathing.
So please allow me to do my best to live my worst today!
And so the story goes;
Revelers in the night
Hunters at light
Selling our souls for a nickel of gold;
“A shame indeed if you will be standing on the opposite side watching with tears as your loved ones rejoice come judgment day!” Spare the gospel Mr. Preacher
We are the immortality darlings!
Dear Mary,may you sleep in eternal peace and may your passing on remind us that our day is coming too.
(On my write am trying to depict a scenario of a preacher giving a sermon at the funeral to a congregation that cares not at all about life after death(message in a bottle))
Thanks for reading,and light a candle,will you?!