THE ROMANCE

I woke to that strange confused morning,
The songs of silence caressed my acoustic tool.
The world stood still, or so I thought,
As the unsmiling face of the colorless sky I picture,
The neighborhood birds went dumb too.
My life's nucleus beats unfamiliar drums,
And told how bemused.
My head held me by the ears.
Like a baby monkey, confusion cuddled me,
Never wanting to let go.
She came, the wicked angel,
Lured me with my sugarcane.
My head held me by the ears the more,
As a nurturing African mother would her baby.
Indecision drove me into indifference,
Passionately pressed me the more,
Lobbying my emotion like a politician,
Commanding me like an adjutant.
With the fury of a commander,
Yet seductively she smiled.
The white smoky sky turned black,
Her robes turned into fiery gold;
The gold our tender innocent flesh tortured.
Nineteen heads she locked in that moving cell,
Allowing her full wrath we to feel.
Flames carried our screams into the sky,
Yet no one heard the strangled scream.
She was a murderous angel.
Her long golden yellow arm caught me,
Her fierce wrath, my left arm felt.
She held my neck and my left ear,
While others she silenced.
She forced me the smoke to eat,
And promised me a slow painful eternal rest,
Until the saving grace visited the moving cell.
Obinwanne Seaman Barry