Your Heaven Is Cold Without Me
All these years, you risked your life endlessly,
Protecting me from the cold world effortlessly.
You relied on my promises,
Kept me clean in my dirty premises,
Like a fetus, your love developed ceaselessly.
In hard times, you kissed away my pain,
When you don't even know what you stand to gain,
Soothingly amazing was your last word
In a heartbreaking world,
Healing and overwhelming me to the brain.
In my perfect imperfections,
You aided modifications,
Paying no mind to uncivilized talking lips,
Against our divine trips,
A blessed intimation and visible justifications.
One day, like a projected missile, their bullets thundered,
One of the killer seed meant for me took your soul and you were lowered.
I stood at your grave to weep,
But you were not there and do not sleep,
Hey! A mystery - many still wondered.
Money couldn't buy you so I didn't sell my gold,
Sure, the truth must be told,
I believe in your immortality,
A cherished and chosen mentality,
I miss you a lot and without me by your side, I think your heaven is cold.
This poem is dedicated to Asandia Edem, the cousin of Victoria Kingwell, who was shot dead during a gang shootout in Calabar, Saturday, April 30th, 2011: Rest in peace.
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