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A Man Called Fate by Peter OKonkwo


For a long time,

I've been expecting your visit

For years, I've waited to meet you.

I do not know if you're

aware of my waiting times.

Nor aware of my pains,

tears, and countless sorrows,

Nor even consider the

scolding with which men scolds me

I'm still waiting to receive you -

A man called fate.

We had a promise from my birth

that you shall defend me

in my weary times.

And would give me food

in my times of dearth.

Yet, you watched me

as I die of hunger.

You couldn't even give me

water to quench my thirst.

You mercilessly left me

to satisfy my thirst with my tears.

Yet, you claimed

to love me wholeheartedly,

why is it so, a man called fate.

You severely left me disheartened.

You told me that you

shall come years ago.

I waited, it passed,

You promised me you

shall come another year.

It passed, and you kept

postponing your arrival.

Leaving me to hold

my pillows in expectations

As it is soaked with

my tear gland secretion;

Yet, you emphatically

claimed to love me.

A man called fate.

Fate, if I offend you

please forgive me!

If I'd wronged you unknowingly,

take pity on me.

For my breaths are

becoming unbreathable;

And my hopes are drowning

in the ocean of despair,

May I not die without seeing fate;

Owner of kismet, please intervene.

Re-write my fate for good,

writers of doom and fortune.

Preach to me,

preachers of hope and delay

In my obscurity,

exchange my suicide rope for hope.

Grant my plea,

before I kiss the dust in haste.

Ease my breath,

owner of breath, and death.

Take me to where I

shall meet my calling,

before the pressure of

life presses me down.

Aid my plea,

before doom comforts me.

Quickly come and relieve me

of my countless penuries.

Creator, please plead with

my fate to make me at ease.

The dimensions of my

pains are beyond words.

At a point, I bargained

my breath with the maker of death.

If only life and death

could be traded by barter,

I would have given

my lungs in exchange.

The only hope that

I have is in the breath of my nostrils.

When exactly shall I meet fortune?

Be it as it may, a man called fate.

Fate, why do you keep

quiet to my maladies?

If I suffer pangs,

what will be the

lot of my spirit?

The weight of my

spasm is soul-destroying.

How long shall

I endure the sweetness of tears?

How long shall

I endure the pains of delay?

Come to my rescue,

maker of fate and doom.

Listen to me,

creator of life and death.

Ease me when I'm still alive -

For it will be too late

when I finally kick the bucket;

I am confused,

come and see into the matter of my fate.

Never leave me alone to drink my tears.

I beseech you, a man called fate.

Dear man called fate

I long to see you someday

Make it quick and observe

my unendurable anguish

For there is no

gain in my current pain.

There is no iota of sweetness

in my current plight.

I plead with you;

a man called fate.

quickly come and

hand my fortune to me.

Author Bio

Peter Okonkwo was born in Akure, a city in the South-Western part of Nigeria. He is a freelance writer, editor, fatalist, literary critic, soon-to-be novelist of Etean's Destiny; and a certified orator from the Friendship Leadership Institute of Nigeria. Peter is the author of three poetry collections: Ecstasy of the Dead; Fate, In the Dungeon of Doom, and Whose Fault, Kismet or Impediment? His works have been surveyed as one that runs a gamut of emotion, religious undercurrents, the afterlife, and mysteries of the human fate - occasionally coming across a quite wistful, melancholy, and in other instances very positive, and thought-provoking sort of anthologies. Peter is the host of the "P. English Literature" YouTube channel where he reviews books and conducts interviews with authors around the world.

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