Bloody Hands Poem by Michael Oluwasegun Adesiji

Every time I write
I write with my hands so full of blood
Every time I dip my feathers
Into the cup containing blood
It is always of that
Which speaketh better things
Than that of Abel

Whatever be the theme,
Be it war or agony,
Be it death or depression
I write with the dominion over all
I write with the staff that splits oceans
I write with a face fixed on Canaan
I write with a belief
That my tomorrow will be filled
With a fountain of honey and milk.

I write with a belief so tall
As that of Zacchaeus
I write upon helpful tress
Upon rocks unknown to failure
With a belief that my failures
Shall find someday favours
With a belief that my subtle trials
Shall meet victory in abundance.

Unlike the woman
With an endless flow of blood
My grip shall touch the hearts
And not just the garments of saints
And not even this blood shall cease
An overflow, I will rather see.

For I write not in the ordinary
I write from the blood
That speaketh better things
Than that of Abel
I write with an hand full of blood
The blood from the lamb of God.

•Bloody hands•

©Onyedikachi: The Cub To The Seven Gods.

-Written in honour of myself as the soon to become greatest poet in Nigerian literature.

-Written to serve as a panacea to depression amongst depressed persons, especially writers.

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