By Jean A.P Abbey

Let the widow cry.
For her husband is dead.
And her love bereaved like a wry.
Leave her to mourn his death.

Let her wail in tears of blood and water.
Let her dress in sack cloth as she weeps his murder.
For it is I her father,
Who had asked for this sacrifice;
To choose between my will and her love for him.
To honor the virtue of my name.

Her disobedience has wrought this cause.
Every saga forced by the chaos of my wrath.
“Lay no man until I find you a suitable groom”.
That I had said.
Still she chose to marry her man of choice to her own doom.

I am a loving father but a strict judge.
And like a deserted flower,
Her marriage to him has withered.

Now, her disobedience has bloodied her sinful smudge.
Now his soul bears on her an everlasting grudge.
For she will always remain her father’s daughter.
And his memory will be but a total stranger.

Come my daughter,
Come and rest on my bowels,
Tell to me the woes of your vows.
The oath of nothingness sworn to him in dilated brows.

Daughter of mine.
You are guilty;
Not of murder but of disobedience to me.
For his death is as a result of this.
Burn your desires and let me lead.

You widow of sin…
Find your wake and lay on it.
Spill your pride and match on it.
Hang your lies.
Do not let them live.

Jean A.P Abbey is a Nigerian writer/Poet who hails from the South-south
region of Nigeria, Rivers state.
He is a lover of the arts as well as literature and hopes to finish his
book of poems written by him this year. He is a freedom activist and a

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