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Death of the Poet

How can one be betrayed by death

Be cheated out of living

Hate filled heart, blood shot eyes

Cold-bloodily will be of it

Heart empty beats uneven

Let I revenge all before death

With every breath vengeful fire

Let I take my life for you

Murder the old lady shall scream

Murder from the top of her lungs

The poets dead! - triumphal wreath

I am gone now to another planet

Please if not all hold onto my words

These are but just simple genius

Manifold a great poet of the time

I cut my wrist so I can write in blood

Paint a portrait of vivid images

Pull out my vain and hung it up

What a bloody mess I have caused

Shocked as their eyes wonders

They have seen the silent murder

They have slain the poet.

poem by Obinna Nwerem
Added by Poetry Lover
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