ETERNAL

Suicide. With hands outstretchd and toes
gripping a window ledge four stories high
reached and graspd a chosen fruit and I
askd, plummeting by, why they made
the choice they had:
Africa is the Future! and You
carry her seeds within your womb.
and I am Death, your King. I am
in all things old and new; in
Life you find me close by
and in the desert paths I reign
supreme. I walk amidst joy and
vibrant Spring, when galaxies were born
and breathed the dawn upon the gods:
Osiris, Zeus, Yahweh. Them all I ate
and now they make my dung. My
arctic footsteps leave a chill that no
cold can match. I am Death, your
King. When all is safe and moments
grow sweet, I steal.
Eternal Time marks only one
companion and my heart will
never fill. Africa is the Future!
and you carry her seeds within
your soul. Black woman, Nubian
queen, sweetest fruit of the darkest
branch, bearer of the Life within,
bring forth my Myrmidons. I slay
the darkness and then the light.
One must die so another may live, and
for that shall they obey my signs! The
grey lips of a cold heart pursed
against the breast
of an unloved land, nourished
by the milk of dreams. I
am Death, your King and no
flight may escape my realm nor
satisfy my tax. No justice,
no reason or timing prevents the
hands outstretchd and toes
gripping an avalanche of sorrow.
Perish all, Death lives forever.