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Wednesday, March 9, 2016

The Mutiny of The Dead

The Mutiny of The Dead

By Adeosun Pelum
March 9, 2016

The wilted branch of the willow tree,
Drooped, touching her headstone with its tender fingers,
The browning grasses and the primroses stood like a 1000 soldiers,
Ever watchful and protective of her realm,
They were her friends and her only companions.

The muffled silence and the mournful wails of the wind,
Were the only voice she’s ever heard,
And she loved listening to them too.

The flapping wings of the raven,
Ruffling the slumbering atmosphere,
Announced his presence as he gave raucous caw;
A greeting no one else understood but her,
And she would respond with a well meaning silence.

She seemed to give a knowing smile,
As the raven perched on her headstone,
Stirring the still flowers with a gentle draft of wind,
From his ominously dark and ethereal wings.

He is her friend too;
Her only living friend in flesh;
Yet, like her, he is unwelcome in the land of the living
where he dwells.

News from the land beyond, he always bring,
And she would listened so aptly,
That even her quietness rivals that of the gloomy silence.

Today, he brought her a joyous tale;
Of the carnage behind the mortal veil;
And from it, she knew it’s already begun;
The mutiny of the dead.

She knew what must be done,
Soon others like her would seek refuge,
In the voluminous bowels of the caring mother earth,
And she would welcome them with a regal smile of a queen,
Which she is.

She would show them love and give them the unrestrained attention denied them by the living.

She would listen to their troubles and calm them with soothing tales of hers.

She would tell the tale of the beautiful moonlight,
Whose pale and innocent looks calms the mind of the troubled,
And she would tell that of the sun,
Whose radiance warms the earth,
Beneath which they lay.

Then she would conclude it with a tale of her own,
Of how she was stabbed by a lover’s hand,
On the night of her marriage to her betrothed.

And she would round it up with the declaration,
Of her passionate and hateful devotion,
To the end of humanity.


http://poetry.wrr.ng/the-mutiny-of-the-dead-by-adeosun-pelumi

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