Songs of Anisha
“From a Dying Man,”
by Uchenna Shadrach Franklin
Surely I must die
I’ve walked life’s long aisle
in all I walked tall
I’ve sat at life’s table
decked with sweet and sour bowls
now to the great Gate I come
which yields to the Golden Sun.
Surely I must die
airy hands pull on my rudder
the ship bellows
the tide swells
and the wind roars
than cry, say “goodbye”
for your tears are handicapped
to liven my worn soul
though to charge a still heart
they hold hotter words than mouths.
Surely I must die
teach my seeds to hold the course
and tell how I strived
to mend the world with words;
omens often fail
and dreams are flatterers
beware when roses smile
or adders wish to kiss your heels
in a show of love
for they rarely show the swords
behind their lurid gowns.
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