Meeting With Conscience Poem by Aminat Opatola

Meeting With Conscience



I lay with life face down in a mire,
and pray this darkness within become my pal,
and hope again,
rose up this prayer to wing,
i slept in the ear-winning melody of a toment heart.
It speaks many voices i couldn't pick,
and in the spaces of the night i heard voices, voices that answers to the spheral lay,
i saunter forth like a gloomy shadow and knelt unto the night bitterly fall,
i saw faces,

sparkling faces i recognises as mine, glimmering forth and back like a broken mirror,
seeing my mirror self shimmers like flies,
i melt and ask,
who are you?

Conscience they returned,
we are rebellious, restless souls,
faces found beyond thy deeds, here in the dark...,
deep with in thy heart we lay,
and rest beneath thy plains,
we give justice, not vengeance, we are spirits reminding thee of thy deepest sins,
we are souls in thy other world telling thee whats right and wrong,
we inspire hearts to keep on with thoughful acts,
we are spirits you can't erase, call us friend,
cause we keep visits,
we visit as a tomentor and an adviser,
we are thoughts hidden in thy innermost breast,
we crush and also resurrect souls,
our earnest quest is to make thee see the phases of life,
with our teaching languid eyes and several thousand tongues,
we are clung to souls like shades within a shadow soul
and also strikes heart with our bloody fist,
call us conscience we are always here.
I woke and they came back to me,
though in my dream it had come so real,
i burn with the hallow arch of the night like some fair flame of
sacrificial light.
My Conscience in its thousand form is here,
again as a replica they had shown,
laying my sins in my hand and eye.
Versed in thoughts of my daunted world.
In afar my mind still so dim,
they came in their shining flame to my hunted heart,
what, oh what again i cried,
only to meet and remind they laughed.

Sunday, May 20, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: conscience
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