What A Country You Are!

Has my licence to remain human been revoked?
Have I been banned from my familiar country of aliveness?
For to be alive and human is to be cursed to feel all the tears of life, painfully coursing through your veins and choking your heart till it forgets its name.
So have I been banned from the capital; of sin and suffering?
Am I to no more show my personal ID of pain as proof of my allegiance to life?
How am I now a refugee of living and an ambassador of death all at once?
How am I seemingly so soon saved?
How am I so welcome in these eyes?
When you are caught in the border town of spent and insanity, you become citizen and hope doesn’t
So how is this body that is citizen of all the things hearts wish they never feel now dead to the misery of lonesome pain?
How is your love such beautiful rapture that ruptures the perfect seams of my dystopia?
How is this power you flaunt with casual grace, so charmingly effective at making me believe I am discovered anew?
That I am native of solitude and loss no more
How is it that “I love you” is my new coat of arms?
And my anthem is a prayer, that “Happily Ever After” be etched in the pages of my everyday?
Is this what you do?
Gather up refugees of life into the capital city of your person – your love?
What a country you are!

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Published by: Akyempo

i met the Priest...i realised that though society seems to respect the baker and despise the shepherd, the baker is not happy despite his stability and the shepherd is free to pursue the pyramids, because he is a dreamer; and one day he will meet Fatima. I am the boy; the shepherd.

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