The Fading Dream, Pt. II

 

Nigeria is a land of giant enthroned whales and small uniformed piranhas,

a restless sea of lucid nightmares,

where hopeful birds drown, hunted by fishes.

We tread water with half-lidded eyes and featherless arms, for to grow feathers

is to wake up or die. The restive sea drains our lifeblood, but we slumber on.

Our sleep is shallow—our minds rest ashore.

It is an uneasy rest, when we are not free from the

mire that encrusts our legs, the watery menace of our predators. Our sleep is shallow; our dream is

deep. It is how we escape.

In our dream, we race across the sky,

for the life we seek lies above and beyond

the rippling shimmer of this horizon,

and our dream is a thermal that buoys us. We want to wake up and be free.

Our seascape reality half-forgotten,

we fly towards the sun.

Swiftly our dream melts away,

tallowing off our minds, like the wax on our wings.

Like steam before the sun, our sweet dream fades, silting our mouth.

Where are our wings now?

They are gone the way of hopeful mistakes, made in moments of forgetfulness of what shape we are, bald birds drowsing in a boiling sea, beset by its savage denizens, yet waiting to dream again.

About The Author

Adebayo Shalom is a writer of poems, stories and vaguely philosophical thoughts. He reads anything that tickles his fancy and he dances to funky music in his room for fun. Adebayo Shalom is on Instagram as the.shalom.adebayo.