What’s left but exhausted minds
That parade in shirts and gowns
Shrugging shoulders that tongues have laid on
Like gods that have lost their omniscience
To futile voyages
Over the tombs of the living
They drop wreathes
Sending our spirits on exile
But dumb strangers with tongues pierced
By fingers on throne’s apparel
These songs are of arsenal voices
Hibernating the sages
With ornamental cuffs and artillery
To rest their wizened grey hairs on mute
What’s left but mere carcasses
Painting colours in space
Red, the choking air
In grievance, the crump of air we pursue
Like chippings of gravel
We chew the intoxicated air
And still groan for more
The soil has lost its virginity
To the heels of scavenging feet
Fire, the rage in her eyes
What’s left of me?
But the melancholy of tomorrow
About the Author of What’s Left
Awa Chigozie is a Nigerian. A student and resident of Abia State in Nigeria. He is a prolific writer whose keen interest is in poetry and fictional works. He has poems which have been published in anthologies and other media. He describes his works as a mirror to man’s act. Presently working towards releasing his first poetry collection.
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WHAT’S LEFT is a poem full of imagery. Imagery is a powerful tool in art, but should be used with moderation and appropriately, otherwise the readers will found themselves lost, but less lost than the author himself.
Writers have tools such as dictionaries, that they have to make use of. Once the author has finished writing, he shall read over and over again until he feels his text. Nothing is perfect, we just have to lessen our imperfections.
Jerome, I have come back to this to emphasise of those points. You work is mature now.