The Author Died
Just this morning, my pen mourn
And drifted into slumber
I saw shadows and dusts
Babies in the pool of regrets
Anarchy in the wombs of women
There they stoop and stood
Lowering his dust and shadows
To father-earth
In the agony of his eternal adventure
Our bones wept
Just this morning the author died.
Copyright © Kingsley Awoh | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment