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.