The Face of Glamorous Moments
A poem
The strides of my legs were led by agonies and escorted by sorrows, and I was tethered with chains to be reposed in the dungeon of doom. I mourned from many torturous traumas and the wreckage of a broken, splintered heart.
My eyes sought the light of the skies, but I peered to see a gloomy sun arrayed to be my wrathful, chief antagonist — and the elements of sunset spoke with the haunting silence of bitter resentment.
Dusk prepared the bed for my dreams, but the insensitivities of darkness sent foul nightmares in the most harrowing of ways! I was allotted the portion of forced celibacy and the compulsion to be estranged from the opposite sex.
Yet all my thoughts hovered around charm and the astonishing splendour of feminine marvels. My nostrils hankered after that jasmine scent and the aristocratic aura effusing from a cultured lady with proper, polished etiquettes.
But I was harassed and clobbered by devils of isolation and spirits that glide on winds of apathy. The strength of my vocal cords yelled into the cosmos in frantic desperation for I was on the verge of renouncing my esteemed identity as a man.
Then I knelt where the dust will soak my sorrows and sent an envoy to solicit with celestial majesties. I’m without a pittance for bread and made to forfeit the joyful bliss of plump, luscious lips. The zone ahead is barren, so may the heavens above save.
Therefore I cherish you, darling, as my unsullied gold born from the ill furnace of affliction and as gleaming lights emerging after the chaos of treacherous, boisterous storms.
So pipe a healing elixir from the orifice of your heart and let me drink the poignancy of a soothing, medicating wine. Bandage my blisters now I’ve walked a thousand miles in search of soulish delights and an acquaintance with tight emotional connections.
My fantasies are your facial expressions and the reflection mirroring your surreal, alien beauty. You’re a beacon for the drab sceneries of mankind, illuminating with the unparalleled brilliance of a flawless, scintillating shine.
I sat at the centre where attitudes were nonsensical, and reason was rickety and utterly malfunctioned. My suspensions for survival were fraying quickly, but in you, my belle, is the lamp of the morning and the face of glamorous moments.
© Valentine Nnebe 2024
All Rights Reserved
