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Title: Part 2 : LETTER FROM THE GRAVE

by poetenoch | in music & audio, production, lyrics

The result of Stephen芒聙聶s final exams came. Stephen as expected made an 芒聙聵A芒聙聶 result. The father was so proud of his son, that he blessed him and hopefully gave him an old agbada of his. The news of Stephen芒聙聶s success in his examination got to his uncle in the United States. And so, his uncle offered Stephen the chance of coming over to stay with him in the US, and also to study there.
Stephen was so delighted, and highly fulfilled to the extent that, he gave his most treasured asset, his guitar, to his brother.
Stephen obtained a Nigerian passport and thereafter was granted a visa to the US. He was so celebrated in his family. Not just for the fact that he would be heading to the United States. Stephen like any other Nigerian had forgotten about his idea of going to University of Yoruba to learn. He felt that God had decided to let him go to God芒聙聶s Own Country. Although he was young and bright: but he looked kinda grown-up. He had a facial hair already. Fine looking young man; sexy and lustful in stature and in eyes of any emotional freaked lady; so was he.
On the day of his voyage, he woke up early, for he had actually not even had a good sleep. This was due to the fretfulness of travelling all alone. Right from Africa to the United States, so he felt. Later, the other members of his family woke up, they ate the breakfast together. That which last happened in a decade; they were all thrilled by his success and nature to control his life up to that peak. The keenness of becoming a great man still burned like conflagration in him.
He was followed down to the airport. When he was cleared, he said good bye, he acted like a man which was hoped would be displayed by him in the United States. And so he took off. He gently took out his handkerchief and robbed off one drop of hero芒聙聶s tears.
***
He sat gently on the open pavement. He waited earnestly for his so much affectionate angel; it was his dream girl. She was Jenny. She walked down to him like she knew how much Stephen was dying for her. This girl, dark like she ought to be, as an Afro-African, robust enough, which is proof of good living, endowed with all feminine goods; she came, she sat, and she exchanged pleasantries with Stephen. She was Stephen's school mate. She was actually an English and Literature student. Stephen was a student of Journalism. You know, it was more or less like an accident, when Stephen met Jenny. Jenny as a student in the Faculty of English, would definitely be made to go to public speaking programs, so as to enable her command in English and sharpen other areas in her life.
Jenny had this belief that she would one day face thousands of humans.
Fortunately, Stephen had to take a course in the department of jenny, as per, being a student of Journalism. So they took courses together. And sometimes, they would be given mind-numbing assignment, which if not done may result into a low grade in one's continuous assessment. One day, while receiving lecture, Stephen saw Jenny and he was kinda attracted to her dressing and her sense of natural beauty. He stared so much that he was caught red handed by the lady. He could not have denied. Unfortunately fortunate for Stephen, he saw her smiling. But when he tried comforting his heart, he noticed that the smile was not in anyways meant for him. He opted to listen to his lecture. While trying to settle his mind for lecture, the clock ticked. It was time up! How disappointed this must have been for Stephen.
On a very blissful Friday morning, while attending one of his correspondent classes in Journalism, he was luckily paired with Jenny for a term paper; or say, a continuous assessment project. They were to compose a love poem which must be a sonnet with any style of writing. And it must be in twos. Stephen never displayed any act of over-joy, but surreptitiously wore his mantle of maturity. So, after the class, Stephen met with Jenny. And that was how they kept the open pavement as the meeting point. A famished man is a fuming man they say. Stephen was hungry for love and thirsty for emotional care.
Over here in the United States, Stephen had quitted going to parties. He became a core Pan-African socialist. He believed in the core doctrine of African socialism as hypothetically propagated and unequivocally explained by Nyerere of Tanzania.
In the cool hours of the day, they sat. Looking and staring at each other open-secretly. Only God could actually say what was running through their minds. Jenny was holding a pen and Stephen said,
芒聙聹Can I make use of that?芒聙聺
Jenny replied by saying,
芒聙聹Of course芒聙娄 why can't you?芒聙聺
Stephen: 芒聙聹I just thought it's well polished of me to ask.芒聙聺
Jenny: 芒聙聹you know what Stephen?芒聙聺
Jenny: 芒聙聹you men from Africa are actually cool. You know, sometimes, I just feel lost and exiled from my people.芒聙聺
Stephen: 芒聙聹look, you don't need to feel lost. Though I can say I know your pains at least on this issue. And that芒聙娄芒聙聺
Jenny: 芒聙聹what do you know that is paining me Stephen?芒聙聺
Stephen: 芒聙聹hmm, I just know that you aren芒聙聶t happy at all times not seeing your source.芒聙聺
Jenny: 芒聙聹you don't simply know how I feel. You know what? Let us just go on with our assignment. But you are simply cute. I hope you will also be cute and gentle with your girlfriend?芒聙聺
Stephen: common, stop that. I don't have a girl friend. Or, are you ready to be one?
Jenny: are you trying to lure me to loving you? Common let us do this stuff.
Stephen: okay princess of beauty.
Immediately Stephen uttered those words, jenny looked him in the eyes. And there developed a chemistry of love between them. But neither of them was aware of that fact. Patiently, Stephen told jenny about his poetic ability.
芒聙聹Hey, do you know I write poems? I mean any kinda poem. I probably got that idea from my dad. And since we have both been paired together to write a sonnet poem, I will gently compose one without any problem. Are you satisfied with that?芒聙聺
While Stephen was talking to jenny, she was lost in thoughts about this young cute African boy; that has come to the United States to arrest and accommodate her heart.
She started analyzing Stephen from his head to his toes. She likened his hair to the beautiful soil of Africa and to the symbol of an African man's youthful age. She without delay fell in love with his broad chest. She hoped that she would one day rest on that chest of surety, love, care and affection. She wished she would just find herself in the arms and hands of Stephen. While she was lost in thoughts about Stephen, Stephen had tapped her twofold without her responding. By the third tap, she came back from the licentious trip. Again, Stephen asked her if she wouldn't take offence in him composing the poem alone due to his poetic talent. This she agreed to without impediment. But Stephen was so disturbed about why she was lost in thoughts. But he resoluted not to ask!
Jenny then asked Stephen what the subject matter of the poem should be. They both robbed minds together: so they wished they robbed each other physically. But they were handicapped by fate. Who knows if the same fate will not still put asunder into what will be together?
***
***
And so Stephen stood up. He walked straight down to the pool side in jenny's house. He looked into the sky, and then turned to Jenny; he started uttering those potent poetic terms;
芒聙聹There were nights when it was cold,
I, in solitude was in fold.
My love has no level,
But for sure better than a devil
Who will bear my feeling?
It is beyond my doing.
I am a love dove,
But adored by love wolf
It is true, I have no dear,
And no one has a care.
Friends we are for once.
But will it just be once?
It is your love I cherish.
My heart must not perish!

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