Tale Of Tomorrow / Poem by Abbas Usman Julde

The Tale Of Tomorrow

The thin line dwells between pain

And nectar of the future,

It forces my soul to laugh and cry.

Eagerness and sorrow, all mixed 

in the cup of wine; 

placed on the palace of tomorrow 

Which is decorated with burnt dreams

Of my village men. To taste this

Wine, I have to master the theories

Of laugh and cry, I have to master

The notes written with blood and sweat

And sand.

When I cry, I closes my eyes

To appear in the land of tomorrow,

To see all its magnificent buildings

And rivers of amusement reflecting

The sun rays that evaporates the men's 

Dreams, like a meteor of war.

I can still see the sky painted with a

Rainbow's face; reflecting the feathers

Of birds—floating on the air of freedom.

And when I open my eyes, 

My soul fly back to the land 

I left yesterday. I can still hear

The echoes of my voice, longing

For help. No one comes. 

All alone, with my echoes.

I ask myself, is helping a lad a curse

In this land? I saw a bone of my best friend,

Decayed. At night I ate the whispers 

Of an owl to melt my loneliness.

The memories, the moon grinning me,

The road kisses my feet at night,

All hug my mind and moisture my cheeks

With a glue.

Here I am, at the middle of today & yesterday,

Far from tomorrow with an onus of fear

On my head. Pains and lost no way back.

Pernicious road ahead. Whacked. And no home to reside.

Today, here I am, dreaming of tomorrow's

Magnificent buildings and scared of the

Moon and owl.

Here I am, tied with the shackles of

Hope, of fear, of grief, of regret.

This moment makes me laugh and cry.

Abbas Usman Julde is a Nigerian youth with passion in literature and activism. He writes from Kumo Akko LGA Gombe State Nigeria.