The Harbinger
A poem
The curse comes bearing blessings, gifts coated in bitter-sweet rifts that sift through the unbecoming of your firmly planted vices that hide still, behind chrome plated guises. I heard hope sob and walk away from your door when the past unpacked its bags to stomp your heart with muddied shoes, littered with regrets, upsets, failed resets, crumbled pre-sets — and all the bets you lost with yourself
yet, it rings, the muted cacophonies of hate inspired romance, of that dance you had on the edge of the knife, praying for answers only to bleed out more questions because you let them cut so deep and now you can’t tell straight from steep.
I will tarry here, at the door of your heart and ward them off, scythe after scythe, plight after plight, fight to fight till I see the light; that cracking of the dawn in your eyes. Sometimes the harbingers pay the price, so when I’m gone I will leave the door open for hope.
notes: This piece (from an old collection) was inspired by Aesop’s quote that says ‘no act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.’ It’s the only poem I’ve ever written in prose style and it revealed itself to be shared because despite the spiral I went through and how tough I thought the month would be, I found strength and love in the support I got from the community here and in the help I was able to offer to the people in my life that needed it.
It’s easy to feel like we have nothing to offer especially when we hit a low but even in times like that, helping others out can empower the mind and strengthen one’s resolve.
I’m grateful for a place to be able to share my pieces so thank you to the editors and curators of this wonderful pub and thank you all for reading 🙌🏾🤍
The MPP is not available in my country and neither is Ko-fi but if you’d like to show your support, you can consider tipping me here. I appreciate your kindness.
