Pain has terrorized me for an eternity.

Creator,
I have cried immensely
I prostrate myself before you
long ago, I believed I had submitted
though, apparently
submission befalls me this moment.

How much stronger has my torment become
over a period of many moons now
I can suddenly comprehend the wailing proclamations of dying men
their spirits suddenly snatched from the comforts of their varying delights.
The knowledge is contained within physical flesh
yes, contributing to the composition of memories – cognition
still, those memories are compiled inside of cerebral creases – tissue.
The same portions of knowledge are stored
composing the affectionate and turbulent strings
bonds that serve, only, to tether individuals intimately to one another.

I can now feel, with precision, the agony of broken hearts
continuously trampled upon
or existing underneath the feet of fiends of malicious intent.

Oh,

how they play with the heart
kisses and hugs that deceive my soul
ensnaring my innocence inside of their selfish glee.
Shallow beast!
Who hath no capacity to love
instead,
an endless pit of torment where her heart should be.

An addition of stress
I labored under the collective scheme of those who absconded with my children
such an action that triggered my mental and emotional faculties negatively
a most sinister pain.

Was there something,
at my birth,
that you, the creator, should have explained?
I, youth, grand descendant of the emperor Sundiata Keita
my mature life reflective to that of the biblical Job.
Did you, Elohim the creator, devise my life to experience and endure pain?
The strain upon my spirit loomed heavily
supreme, because of the glass smoke I consistently ingested.
Ultimately, there presented the dematerialization of my personalization.

So, according to those facts of life
it ceases me to promote any wonder of how my life has gestated my hatred
which was emboldened by the thieves of my seeds
prompted by a harbinger of toxic unifications – a devil sent to sever my loving patience.

Creator,
lo,
I gripe because my distress is great
the foundation – that night that my initial hero was slain
unbeknownst to I that night would become the prelude to my life’s testimony.
I have, since, stared into the eyes of men, who presumably, re-enacted my fate -
lonely
eternally heartbroken
so they rejected to engage human compassion
hermits
components of communities comprised of other outcasts
a kingdom of vast distances between denizens
bleak.

Creator, lo
I am soon to quiet my grievances.
I do appreciate that you awaken me and guide me into new days
but, I must ask, still,
why am I to persist in enduring a pain so pure?

Down there,
in the depths of my chest,
my heart contemplates fear and abandonment
my tears remain the testament of my citizenship
the captive of an emotional void composed of a morbidly horrendous uncertainty
they are poised to terminate and bury me.

Creator,
if I collapse of a broken heart before the eyes of them all,
will you carry me?
Yet,
also,
and still,
if I expire alone
my breath ceasing, in the absence of all,
in my solitude,
will you cover me?

I have certainly had more than enough time to consider my existence.
In spite of men who have praised me for my talents, that I did not rear,
I was still unable to look within.

Inquiries of my arrival here
rage in my tears
blood covered, yet, my screech is joy to their ears
my umbilical cord
it tethers me
still, I have been casted forth from my mother
the sun that shines brightly in the sky above is transfixed in its position until the moon gradually confiscates its earthly spot.
I learned to crawl at first.
Many moons pass, then, steps I would begin to take
I stumbled to win the race

wait.

If I fail, then still, I rose to save face.
An adolescent, but, still, I am determined to win this race
I am driven
stepping into my teenage years beyond the pace of my peers
foolish, a youthful mistake that I have failed to comprehend as I stand in the aftermath

wait.

Cycle of life
I emerge from the aftermath as an adult acknowledging my pain
standing up once again
preparation for another knock down
I am still driven
Yet, and now, I am driving pon dark roads.
Distressing are my most dramatic thoughts
I come to rest upon devised dreams

wait.

Dreams deferred drag the time of my reality
I am elderly
I am tethered
tethered, somewhat, to my descendants
newer life
though, it is that familiar cycle -
my family.

Considering my existence
I have looked within.
Now, peering externally, I am able to behold versions of me.
My eyes, their eyes,
their noses, my nose
they have become, currently, the unforgotten reflections of me
those precious angels of mine.

I behold them and smile when I consider this existence of mine.

It took an abstract realization,
something that I had never noticed ever before.

Where there was a semblance of monotony
there existed the essence of change
the actuality of reality
even to the smallest degree, such as the subtlety of how fast, or slow, my locks grew,
in centimeters.

Oh!
The informative nature of such a nuance amplified my rage!

Teenage angst was somehow removed with its perpetual sway
it crawled slowly constantly prompting our celestial commander to descend
solar illumination abated
nocturne shielded its rhythmic gait in a way
the presence of this frame cordoned off at 15 years
that made its movement seem a hasty thing
in its grip, initially, I was a child
now, I am a man
I lavishly lament the awkward promptness of anything I have gained.

All in due…

Was I due to manage it?
Over moons, many a pressured slumber
I rest still
my education
my locks that grew
subtle that pace
wisdom I have gained
that familiar melody of change
the alpha that arose
until omega was due to settle the earth
hands, arms, that consistently illustrate the change – “tick, tick, tick”
oh, that familiar tune it plays.

Being older,
my eyes can detect its forceful ways
unsubtle
however, I can manage it
I force it to behave.
Although, it still has me bound tightly within its clutch forever
yet, still,
I have synchronized our pace
the older I become it grips my hand tighter
together we are trekking my lifeline
now, I comprehend it.

Now I have time.

Jonah Singleton 2024

Yes
so too, there exists the ultimate skill of GOD
and in man, manifesting perpetually, is the reflection of GOD
to create, reproduce
to plan, to build.

By default of the circumstances
GOD is the creator
and life is an execrable mirror.