‘…In our hypocritical ignorance, we tend to cry and mourn the dead but always too quick to forget them. After the physical death, they even die in our memories - multiple deaths. We should endeavour to make their memory linger…’ …Odeyemi John Law

Poetry slips into my Saying Goodbye to Vero' Series as I feature Tola Adegbite. Let’s not forget the read-and-comment ritual. It's therein that our individual condolences are expressed. Thanks.

***


SHE RESIGNS

By Tola Adegbite

Help praise this warrior

Paint her picture with victory colours

Adorn her image with the flowers of splendour

With no weapon she broke the gate of illness

Exposing it to the breeze of shame

Praise this courageous woman

She was never enslaved to sickness

But rather brace the air of freedom

Leaving this cruel world

For eternity to dwell                                                  

With faith she signs her resignation letter

Written by fate with the ink of time

Amidst the tears, amidst the sorrow

I know the truth, the truth of it

Vero' is not dead, she only resigns


3 comments:

She is not dead but watching from another place... .

Really too soon,but dis i know is inevitable,only dat we're ignorant of d tym nd who.She's done her part,we likewise shld, nd live worthwhile lives,letn go of controversy nd embracing the truth,so we'll be remembered for good nd not otherwise...till we meet again,continue resting on d Lord's bosom,ADIEU VERO!

Ayomide.

Yes, this is picturesque... exactly the intent confirmation of my assertion. The Lonely thorny lane of existentialistic phenomenon is not for all to tread, but for few.

Only Poets are in the best position to understand and interpret the shady blurred reality of death. When others see 'death', Poets see mere physical absence - resignation of the 'defiant' who wouldn't for whatever pain, no matter how agonizing it is, succumb to the vilest threats of sickness, and the devourer - disease. Death is the way out of such situation. Survival here is tantamount to cowardice. But, the resignation written in the blackish glove of death is the measurement of bravery.

You see, we must change our attitude towards certain predestined phenomena like death. We need to understand the 'Democracy of Death'. Death isn't aristocratic or autocratic in his dealings with us, even though he acts gruesomely many a time. It is the meeting point of every man jack; it is the T-Junction where everyone irrespective of our stature, social status, religious inclination, ideologies, comportment, etc. converge for a race of two lanes - death and life. That is why we are but masters to death.

We can only kill those who have gone before us with our instinct and negligence. The lone respect that we can accord them is REMEMBRANCE... 'unforgettability'! In fact, tears has no place in the celebration of the 'gone'; it sends them farther into the jungle of stigmatization.

Death is a garment that we all shared! Tell everybody to beware.

Tola Adegbite, she Has heard your voice... she knows that she is not alone.

Thanks for passing the voice to a mute jaw - a Poet!

Love you all!

John Law

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