It has been an odd, lonely ten-years.
Times fades into nothingness.
But grief stays,
slays at the soul,
silently, skilfully, slicing at self,
It festered in a dark cold corridor corner,
in a closed case,
a passage of pain, infinite.
(c) 2015. Phila Dyasi. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of author.
2004, Infamous for:
flashbacks of a free-fall
into a blackhole,
a dark, bottomless pit.
Followed by fake philosophy
-Preacher, but never reached her-
at the pulpit.
my pre-adolescent soul caught fire
the evils of the world had me lit
should I call on the divine that’s higher?
Third-degree burns from the urns
, I’m in the mines of hell
And the devil’s a liar.
Mind-molested from all the tearless mourning
-and it was a mooncast morning.
I was excited for the excursion
; traveling my passion.
I was gasping
Same time my aunt went from living to has been.
She ceased to exist
In the childlike mind of mine
My excuse- i was just nine minus one
Nowadays, solitude – recluse.
Who would have thought the grave could house a muse?
a dangling double-edged sword
slicing my lifeline cord
is a danger I cannot afford
swan-song this, singing to my own accord.
I’m on the sewer-side of this crappy life
Cannot even commit to suicide,
because who knows what’s waiting on the maneure side, in the afterlife.
if anything at all…
We don’t really know.
Read ‘dearly departed: you are missing from us’ before you read this one. Ramblings and questions seeking answers that only lead to more questions.
(c) 2016. Phila Dyasi. All Rights Reserved. Intellectual property of author.
…in my humble opinion #NuBlaccSoUl