Wednesday 12 June 2013

A servant's plea

I’m a cup. Earthly desires
stain me like the liquored lips of a drunk,
like a man in the hold of his mistress.
I’ve the breath of a lost one–
no place amongst the clean cups
meant for a king.
See me as your goblet
adorned with fine gold.
Pour in the sweat of your heart.
Let it overflow and reflect
your will.This is how I want to be:
principled and with wisdom.
I’m a cup. Of no strength can I boast.
Don’t let the enemy drink from me.
Enough of his venom that eats my inner ending.
Don’t let him shape me for his own,
so I will forget you, my Maker.
By Uzoma Okoroafor (Nigeria)

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