WITHERS - a Poem by Philip Peace



There is a world in my head, and
from the moving of breath, I know.
the night steals a sigh from my breath
and this blank space crawls in my eye.
these nights house a graveyard, even
an illusion which is real'ty
as dreams are. these nights house the soul
lying b'neath the soil of emptiness.
these nights are happy as a child
who knows nothing about darkness
while staying in it. Innocence
 is a gathered grieving of a
body flow'ng out of its spirit.
these nights are holy with the sins
of darkness; shooting arrows of
lightening and a soul's victim.
these nights are as distant mountain
flutters roses 'n' hidden breath
of whispering spirit. these are
in the night of grieving laughter’s;
in its elation of sadness.
these are nights of my moving breath.
and its mournfulness is gladness;
in its awe is living behind
the breath and breath'ng before the eye.
what darkness is compared 'these nights?









Akinwale Peace Akindayo best known as Philip Peace is an undergraduate of the University of Ilorin. Born in the late nineties, he's the third in a family of five. He is a lover of music, dance, art and other things that breathe uniqueness and originality.
 

Comments

  1. These nights are holy with the sins of darkness...nice.

    Relief and apprehension spoken in one breath. Well written

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