LET US BURN OUR SHIPS

We have forsaken
And we've been forsaken.
Day and night,
We've toiled despite our ailing sight
Sleep has eluded our eyes.
The sea breeze has made our skin as cold as ice.

We've missed the kisses from family,
Sailing the dark sea without any ally.
The insatiable hunger for the caress of their soothing words
Has tied up our emotions as though with cords
Oh! How sad is the remembrance of their reddened eye
And our feeble hands, waving bye!

Through the turbulent waves we've sailed,
And now our eyes are bloodshot because we've wailed.
On this dark and scary sea,
We've journeyed nonetheless with undying zeal
We've been blind to the sharks, the whales and the mighty crocodiles
And so much more of the enemies' wiles.

Determination, it was that drove us to the riverbank.
With faith and hope, our doubts shrank.
Courage made us scale through
Even when in the dark we couldn't see through.
Our triumphant chants tied us in unity.
Thank God, we've not paddled at all in futility!

Had we borne our grieves in vain?
After all these, shouldn't we gain?
We've not deserted our loved ones for frivolities
Neither did we abandon our homes for the fun of it
Truth is, in this peregrination of success, there's no fun at all!
Let's all answer to Clarion's call!

We've got to gain from each pain
For that is just sane!
The sweet, refreshing thought of victory should be our victual
And if we don't waver, we can make this 'dream' actual
For the sake of our young ones and posterity, let's evacuate our ships.
If we must make success, let's leave our comfort zones and burn our ships.

By Jubilee Adaeze Azubike

DEATH: THE ONLY WAY

Must I till the soil until I tire?
For a penny, must I dig my hands deep into the mire?
Must I always work to get my heart's desire?
Like others, don't I deserve to be called sire?

Must I bear the brunt of another man's tongue
For Kobo and Naira, just to live long?
On my sagging shoulders, must I carry a truck full of bricks
Just so I can buy another wick?

Must I do someone else's dishes, laundry or even mow the grasses
Just so I can dish out my soup in broken glasses?
Must I continue to be servile
And work harder because I'm agile?

Must I be overly meticulous in cutting the silk and purple
Just so I can sew the pieces together and look like one of 'the people'?
Must I sit in expectation and wait to receive
Such that when I'm forbidden I refuse to forgive?

It doesn't have to be work, work, work all the time
Such that idleness becomes a crime
There is another way in which nobody has a say
And death, is that only way!

By Jubilee Adaeze Azubike