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L O V E ‘s  F U N E R A L     By Wilfred Deigh

I saw in a dream, a funeral;
broken hearts’ heads bowed, stood
in some dew drenched grassy field
and watched love in its grandeur red
lowered into a shallow grave
in a moody melodrama.

Love had a most familiar face
that looked like mine
and others gathered at the same time
like a multi-faced crystal
reflecting countless images
of selfsame object.

The cemetery quaked with sadness
as tears rained on weeping faces
like a motif and hyped the glum.
The priest the eulogy sang
and recited the collect aptly
to console hearts without love.

A gathering of ravens with broken wings, it was.
and love the unfortunate carcass.
All and sundry adorned in deep black apparel
flooded her shallow grave with tears
and some, with sonorous sighs
bid her farewell with copied words.

Only her countenance fair, gleamed still.
made my eyes hurt and I began to cry,
rolled back and forth in pain till…
a heavy thud fell on the corpse’s face
And I woke!
But it felt nothing like Love’s funeral but mine.

 

About Author:
Wilfred Yeminifie Deigh hails from Okpoama in Brass LGA of Bayelsa. He hold a bachelor’s degree in Petroleum Engineering from Niger Delta University and loves writing about love, society, life and host of other things.

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This Post Has 3 Comments
  1. What is this thing about the fixation of poets for love? Make una warn unasefs o. 🙂

    Well done sha, Wilfred. Very interesting piece. Sweeeet!

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