His hands, tied
With legs let loosed.
See; he can, but still can’t –
A man named nameless.
His sonorous voice turns unsoothing,
Deafening the gods towards him.
Men gulp his tears like beer,
Twerking endlessly to the sound of his wailing.
You’re Reading: Melancholia – Poem By Solomon Temitope
He was taught the warrior’s way
How to suppress his tears even before they sound.
How to see but still reveal nothing.
How to live amidst humans deafened to hear an aching heart.
“Hear my heart!” He mumbled.
See; “The world has enough trouble,”
No one needs your grief.
His heart weighs; body afloat in the lagoon.
“But we should’ve helped him”
Was the saying of all who saw his lifeless soaked body