Post Mortem

Written by: Afolabi Taiwo


          Post Mortem

  Did you hear them sing dirge:
  When the world comes crashing down on me,
  Did you hear those voices across the divide?
  A cacophony of tormented brain
  All dead and moldy like forgotten bread,
  Dust to dust,
  Ashes to ashes;
  Their lives begin to wan
  As ashes from their burning hemp bush
  That is just about what it is,
  Their lives nailed with needle and shot away
  And all the dark sores,
  Spun a tangles tale of million arms
  When this madness finally settle like death,
  And after all the soaring
  High up like a bird,
  After all the falling, sprawling  supine
  And whimpering, eyes dilating,
  Groaning like tired door
  After all the hours in the back-rooms,
  Of walking nights In dark corner streets
  Of knives that flash deviance
  To stark-eyes victims
  The spiting cough from over laboured guns,
  All for propitiation for the spirits
  Of their consuming gods, After all of these
  Someone still got his addict soaking brain splash
  Out to foul the air
  A tormented, yet a nice sleep.
  Then commence that shout across the divide,
  Help! Liberate this soul from
  That which diminishes
  From this quagmire, the deadness;
  Of imprison moments.
  And that is just all
  With tip of match sticks
  They measured out their life
  And got filled up their nostrils
  Exploded into the abyss
  And a dirge: when the world comes Crashing down on me.