THE SOUL OF MAIDEN

Written by: kelechi Emeaba

 
Destiny fraught with hardship 
So much in aconite life of the 
hapless soul
In row prone with some ponce
Who could save as she fret? 
Conscripted in a route routed 
march
On lisping lips of the wobbly 
tongue 
Like bird she could afar and 
appear in minute 
As it were when one is peregrine 
in gradgrinds
It could be anything but help 
Dove like as seen on thy alter
Not just a deist in your 
conception 
What could have warrant such 
Towards these wench 
If there were life after where she 
was
The issuance of ones isonomy 
to beloved family
Like teddy bay roaming in the 
hands of strangers
Straining in no altercation 
Yes, she live up to her mournful 
pride
Waited in many of her days 
Maybe the sun could deign and 
benign her path.