The Twilight Lament
Martins Iyoboyi
A jinx of meditation of the dark,
The fad of most,
That feed journeying age of man,
You are the gawky harbinger of woe
By this ebullient solitude.
Last night, we heard dire strutting,
A killing jollity in a faceless tree
Whereon, in carousing a noise is trumpeted,
In the shadows of the innocent age.
What tawdry spectacle of darkness,
A precursor of a deficiency,
Can interpret the actuality of the seed?
Perchance, your lament of yester dusk,
Was among the influence a vendetta,
But no, a resolved blend of hearts,
To the perdition of today.
We are that casual fright in a jiffy,
In readiness of the blatant note,
Whose nocturnal echoes,
Speak of a lovely death of the day.
