end of days; the lord’s assistant was my country

Isaac O. Daramola

 

let me sing the forgotten songs with the lyrics throbbing like a doused heart on fire. let me uphold the last evening before the first fungus drops dead, and allow me to sticker a smile on all empty houses. let me unite the trees of the forests, and play soothing music as they mourn, maybe wipe their tears with paper. let me mend the broken heart of the last orchid with my warm breath. let me wave back at water bodies, and meditate with the oceans for the solitude to come. let me bed the angered mountains to sleep, grant the hills their feet back and watch them run into the late evening. let me gather all tick-tocks and pull out their hearts, relieving them of the countless days to come. let me cry lonely clouds to their graves, knowing that the rain would find no one to torment. let me write, stamp, seal, and send a last mail to adamant gods, granting them a chance while you turn a blind side. let us end this my way

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Isaac O. Daramola (he/him) is a poet, and Biomedical Science student at the University of Ibadan, Nigeria. His work has appeared in journals such as ‘Cephalopress,’ ‘Mineral literary magazine,’ ‘What are birds,’ Milly Magazine,’ ‘Pangolin review’, and forthcoming in ‘Lumin Journal’, ‘Thorn magazine,’ ‘Teen Belle,’ ‘Neon Mariposa,’ among others.