Carried away by the worldly materialism,
People run away from what is impervious, natural,
And what, in life, must smile and breathe.
I am innocent of what its cause may be,
But, here, I am touched, deeply moved,
And my heart, like a magma, melts itself
And loathes my consciousness.
Now, I can no longer see; my eyes are a replica
Of the Nile &, again, I can no longer hear;
My ears are a duplication of my mother’s silence.
Behold! Today, I lost my essence;
My face is an earthquake¬–it’s a disaster.
It infuriates every eyelid that gets its center swallowed by its center.
It reminds the crowd of eyes that life is not water,
It is a conglomeration of broken hopes.
Dear Uncle Death,
I am an innocent boy who knows your scent
Since the day I clocked 10 years on Earth.
You are the universal phobia in each heart that has a soul.
You are yourself. Your fear is what makes me human.
I hate you yet you keep loving me.
& someday, you will journey with me
To the land where only the bodies of lifeless souls breathe.
Yahuza Usman, co-athour of the book "Let Me Grieve," is a Wikimedian, Nigerian poet, short-story writer, essayist and the Secretary of the Taraba Hill-Top Creative Arts Foundation from Al-Mishkat Academy Jalingo, Taraba State. He has his works published by Al-Mir'aatuh Magazine, World Voices Magazine, Literary Yard, Itell Stories and Everything Beautiful, ArtingArena, Afrihil Press, Opinion Nigeria, Synchronized Chaos Magazine, The Daily Pointers, and elsewhere. Yahuza is Hafiz, a typist, a graphic designer, and a networker who bears "Crawling Writer" as his pseudonym.