Sunrise by Ejiọfọr Ugwu

The sun was reluctant to rise
holding grudges
from the dead night.
The gloom spread,
catching up with all of us.
I scooped water
from the mud pot
to rinse my face
and help the sun rise
and speak our cause
I fear my demons too.
They keep erupting
everywhere.
Even in my dreams
I see whiteness
and blinding lights.
The angels came.
They see decays,
we see dancers.
My dreams are diseased.
My dreams grow moths.
The rope almost loops
in an obvious feast of beheading.

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