by Deborah Ifeoma Nkemjika
I rent my garment in ash. I lay down, rolling in dust. Wiggling and wriggling, Wailing and whining. My heart writhes in pain My veins strain with agony I look but see not. I reach but touch not. What can wash away this guilt? What can erase this pain? I bleed my skin with needle. I pull my hair in terror. Gently and meekly, He whispered; “Fear not, for freely, I give my beauty for your ashes.”
Deborah Ifeoma Nkemjika is a born writer who majors in essays, short stories, reviews, and poetry. She is a Christian, a varsity student studying English and Literary Studies in the faculty of Education. She currently lives in Nigeria.