My Desire ill Lived: The plight of  a barren womb

If Only We Knew Why We Remain How We Are

It burdened my heart
My soul grieved in thirsty despair
We all had the freedom to dream
So I dreamt too, I dreamt the best I could

The future my desire carved for me
The older me I anticipated,
The dream I well wished to live out
The future I always admired with love

As I sat, in the palace of my thoughts
I saw a life of hope
I built a mansion of joy
And carved a future worth my own envy

Time passed me by
I saw here from afar, coming my way
With her was what could have been my dream
But getting to me, she spat at me

And carried away with her my dream
Indeed I saw her leave
Only leaving me with my reality
A life that has led me to my story

I tell, as I can, my story
As my flesh rots in six measures of feet in earth’s belly
And my spirit sits on the tomb of my flesh
I tell, as my soul, travels its way to eternity

I saw my life in a family of five
With two of my kind and a kind of my soulmate
As their smiles, rolled into laughs, it brought us joy
As we watched them play from afar, in the fields: That was my dream, my future.

But when reality came, he gave me not even one.
Years followed months and days became weeks,
Fertility, drew nearer to nothingness.
Then I knew, that life in its entirety is not in mans control.

My last hope, though costly, I resorted, the unnatural, intimacy outside our bodies
And behold, it revived my hopes.
At last, I carried in my belly, something of my kind.
All things are indeed possible. I believed.

But this possibility is one I didn’t ask as a bonus
The journeyed war, through nine counts of months.
When its term neared an end: I knew it wanted to see the world: through my worst ever pain
I was so glad to see my first and possibly only baby.

Least did I know that none of us will see the other.
Little did I know that its coming will be my exit.
What I so desired, what I did everything to have
The one thing I cried and almost cursed my God in tears of blood for

Would be the end to my existence.
A barren vessel, wanting nothing but a baby
Here my spirit sits, reading her own epitaph
The perceived dream to conceive has has received me into earths conception – my grave.

If only I could turn back the hands of time.
I would have embraced my reality, without pushing for more.
God has a reason behind every living.
He knows why.

Accept the things you cannot Change.

Obed Mensah-Benyin (September 2016)

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