A Paradise Sepulcher
A promise born, a life designed,
To emancipate, to break the bind.
But fate dealt blows, parents passed away,
Leaving her to shadows, in a world astray.
She sells her body, a living corpse,
A pretty face, a paradise sepulcher, a tragic force.
Uncertainty looms, her future unsure,
A womb evacuated, her soul obscure.
Loneliness creeps, a dejected soul,
Yearning for companionship, a heart that's whole.
"I need a child," she cries, "who'll stand by me?"
But all have fled, fearing disease's decree.
Meanwhile, he seeks to blend, to chill with the bold,
A "Jogolo" tagged, making women happy, but growing old.
He dupes and uses, but ends up used and worn,
A walking corpse, his life misled, his future torn.
Both lost, both alone, both searching for more,
Their lives a testament to the choices they've explored.
Yet, in desperation, she looks up to the skies,
Her maker stretches His hands, a rescue surprise.
Copyright ©
Philip Abayomi Olorunfemi
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