WHERE SORROWS ARE DROWNED
WHERE SORROWS ARE DROWNED
Under the masquerade tree
The one not far from my perch,
The place where dead butterflies find peace,
And lost souls find solace,
I buried my sorrows with leaves at night.
They moan at night over my house
Like night runners in the streets of Kenya,
They don't scream; instead, they cry and shed tears
Of buried memories and forgotten happiness—
Enchanting famines and vultures feasting on
proteins;
Of scarred virgins and wandering widows;
Of countries that never be and will never be;
Of the protruding belly of a war child;
Of natives of nowhere but their home;
These noises and moanings make my heart restless
And my brain lost its greyness—its peace.
I filled my head up with all the dross
And set out on a fulfilling journey.
Even though my head smells like a scented offal,
I held my head in my hands and journeyed
Through disturbing winds and angry breezes
I heard them say water is therapeutic
And the sand beneath it washes away
Stains on metal-rounded properties
I pleaded with the winds to transport me through
their anger
And the breezes through their pain
And I appeared in the middle of nowhere.
I took my head off and showed it to the hanging bulbs
above the water,
I watched as the greyness of my brain restored
itself
And my worries and scarred memories dissipated
Into the vengeful water rushing towards me to find
peace,
And they did find peace by accepting my sorrows
And drowning them in pure salt and sand for cleansing
Just like a metal pot or kettle.
Now I know where to empty pains and sorrows,
At the lost island where no birds sing;
Where market women and men exchange vows;
Where love may never find its way;
Where the open sky is prayed to by escaping demons
And the sorrowful bank wants nothing but gushing
chaos;
Solemn coldness and a wet nose
This is the place where sorrows are drowned.
©ODUNEWU ABDULHAKEEM
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Nice one brother
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