"Obliged to Killing My Self" - By Ojuade Lukman

I can hear; it says: "Let self die".

Can you too hear the recurring echoes?

At two plus half-six, I worry-less without my panties.

Whence, I freely grew from nourishing meek.

Now at two less half-sixty,

Presently caught in a regress, thanks to arrogance.

Mystified by the new gray hair by my right eyebrow.

Swiftly, I forbade it a short notice for the ending of my organs.

Likely, my organ system just posted a status update.

Perhaps, I still have two times half-sixty.

Come away humility, your height is progress, not numbers.

Behold the days of self-elevation are numbered.

I have been building me a castle of self-abasement.

To be furnished with your politeness and character.

But a turn away from Big Ego is like self-slaughter.

This high self-worth is in truth a high altitude.

But if it is an escape from this regressive pride,

I had better take a free fall from this high self-exaltation.

The death of my Self is imminent,

For I must obey the recurring echoes persistently reverberating;

"Let self die".

 © Ojuade Lukman 2016

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