eventually the stars
all darken and die

there at the edge
of sea and sky

life is a voice
and silence death

divisible between
beat and breath

Read me like poetry
Perform my surgery
Tell what am I
                     to you
                     and to me?

i have a sadness lurking in me
the base of every poem i write
the core of my love
as i give myself papercuts
from your letters
and your poems
and i sit quietly
in the shadow
of your starlight.

winter's melancholy cold
as we fry in Satanic heat
a Hell of our own making

we cut the earth and made her bleed
for greed and war and hate and waste

It is clear—
Like the sunny sky.
I went through this wrong,
So why must I follow everyone,
Believe their description of Him,
When they never touched Him
Like I did?
I understand—this is faith:
Knowing you might be wrong,
But not caring.
This is it, the final nail—
I shall carve my path,
With Him as my guide,
With pride and strength.
And if I am wrong?
So what.
This is my faith—
My unstoppable force,
My unmovable mountain.
— Oyeneyin Olufemisayo A.