Conversation With Myself
I abhor the night
For sleep has sworn enmity with my lids
Lethal questions plague my peace
And my heart shows me no pity
In finding rest for my head
Try, try and try I try
But the questions gush like
A burst public pipe
What if the sun were to rise from the West
Or trees were to grow from the sky?
What if I were not my progenitor's seed
Or I was conceived in slavery?
What if these scions of mine
Came off the loins of another?
What if I have vehemently sermonized
Against those I was anointed to preach to?
What if I have plucked at a time, I was to plant
Or spared that which I was to burn?
What if I have chosen horde of words
Over stillness amid vexation?
What if I have diligently removed ancient landmarks
When I ought to preserve the milestones?
What if my kinfolks were to kill another unjustly
Will I, as judge, pronounce the guilty verdict?
What if he I call my brother is the staunch adversary
And the perceived foe is the blood-friend?
What if I were to be made king
Will I lose the touch of the commoner
And vanquish those that will not bow before me?
What if I were to be at war with another
Will I kill a starving enemy or wet his tongue?
I perceive I may never know until it confronts me.
Copyright © Olalekan Ajayi | Year Posted 2020
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