Who will shed tears for a daughter,
Witnessing her descent into ruins,
Helplessness consumes,
Emptiness prevails,
All aspirations crumble,
Through her shattered existence,
The potential for joy, once boundless,
Now lost in the depths of mental strife,
Where thoughts lie buried,
Actions mercilessly mocked,
Life rendered hopeless,
O, child of tomorrow,
Where do you hide?
Do not weep for the mother,
Nor for the child she raised,
Do not fret or concern,
For the child now wounded,
Sometimes life orchestrates,
While we passively observe,
Sometimes life corrupts,
While we play accomplice.
A world now lonesome,
With a child whose mind has faltered.
Gone are the days of yore,
When her radiance filled our lives,
Ifeoma, once so abundant,
Now a faded memory,
Is this the reflection of God?
Where does the divine likeness reside?
A mother’s daughter,
Cradled in her departed father’s arms,
Illusion and wreckage intertwined,
The ruins and debris remain,
Concealing pain and sorrow,
Where anguish conceals life’s treasures,
An uncertain future looms,
Bright beginnings overshadowed,
Leaving naught in its wake,
Now we return to the starting point.
Chidiebere A. Okoroji
