Tale of the Naive

Confusion wrapped with dark melancholies.

Wishful thoughts and damning realities.

Don't think about it.

It numbs the feeling, they say.

Try not to think.

It makes living easy, they say.

Shall the Sphinx be saved by silence?

Or shall grief not find its harrowing path?

Shall the lost tale of the naive not be told?

With much weeping it shall be recalled.

In vain was the wait for matrimonial night

In vain was covering to avert lustful eyes

What is left of the mystery?

Legs spread apart without a choice.

Can this shame be covered?

The Sphinx is the ash.

A shadow of memories distant.

A living dead in cycle of paranoia

Come dine, at this table of the crooked.

Trust is a word never to be spoken.

Blessing Olaoluwaniyi

Blessing is a student of the University of Lagos and enjoys creativity in both forms of art and writing. She loves to journal, expressing herself through both poetry and fiction. Blessing finds home in exploring themes of hurt and sadness.