In my final moments, let me craft a masterpiece,

Where light and darkness harmonize, conflicts cease.

A mere shadow of myself, finally finding peace,
Where dreams and wishes find solace, sweet release.

Within this scene, there lies a prime truth,
Words may be fleeting, but actions bear fruit,

My thoughts echo precisely, exposing vanity’s guise,
In search of a life that’s moral, not mere lies.

Hope lingers in this fleeting instant of time,
I may repent my sins, unseen, sublime,

Why hang myself from a frail-rooted tree?

I may stand, yet still stumble, that’s the key,
I may weep, yet still contemplate, deep inside, still me.

This is a tale of cruelty, devoid of sound,
No love, no peace, hate’s heart is profound,
No time, no second chances, no friendly faces,
A life consumed by pain in desolate spaces.

Yet, the tree grows, defying all odds,
Water and sunlight nourish, against all gods,
A rope tightens around my neck, an act of despair,
Standing on a stool, life imperfect, unfair.

In my last moments, I yearn for grace’s embrace,
For all who suffer, battling depression’s grim face,
For those who strive for gain, and those who sow,
A life without meaning bears nothing to show.

Chidiebere A. Okoroji, M.Ed