Death has always been with and in us. About a year ago, it set camp in this place we once thought our home. It has not left. Unsatisfied, it picks us; one after another, and eats us whole.
Looking back through the now past year, I feel stuck. I wish that was all. But I also feel things I felt the previous year, worse, with more intensity—no hope. I feel more grounded in the same place I have been for many years.
This has been one trying year! What I feel worse about it is our war with each other more than with the enemy. That would be news of humanity, but it is not. It is in our nature to destroy each other. Death is with and in us.
This year has forced us to live with a cloud of the end above our heads. This year has allowed those with ability time for their best lives as those with little die.
We have welcomed darkness into our hearts. We may never feel it but it consumes us, a whole lot at a time.
Have you learned anything about the end? I have—it has no hurry. If it means to take, it will. Come seasons, come time, come whatever you throw at it; it stands. It takes. A whole lot at a time and with maddening calmness! Has it not been a year? Time ticks, death feeds.
A human’s worst enemy
This year has brought out the worst in humanity. I wonder, was this darkness always lurking somewhere underneath? Do we all have it? Some darkness awaiting awakening…
Look! We live on the dead, make ourselves rich at the expense of lives. We breathe seconds of more dollars, more coin, as others breathe seconds of toxic air and die so that we can make more dollars, more coin.
We have our interests, ambitions—what would a human be without them? But we also drag innocent parties into (our) graves we dug!
A human is a human’s avenue for more coin. Coin fattens. Those that once held similar qualities as the living die so that we live on coin… What a curse!
We have power but more coin can be an issue. What do we do? A human has younglings—use them. So many; they look like mushrooms of shanties but from them, we will build cities of coin! Are we not cursed?
Why do you draw breath? As you force a child, as divine a creature, to dine with death so that you make more coin or more pleasure; is the end enough for you? A human feeds on a human—he is a cannibal.
Okay. Eat us. Eat our children alive. We will fight to the end. In words and swords. We burn but will burn in your tummies one day, one way or another…
I am an ignorant party. I listen to the songs you sing us with bitterness. Unknowing whether to listen to your breath of death which holds my life in sarcasm, or my voice “of what reason was”, which has led me to this point in life.
Above all, this year has shown that death will take. It is upon us to live. But among humans, life is impossible. We are not one—we are many in one; our minds are foggy so, instead, a human will destroy humanity.
Is it not clear as day then, that every person holds within them darkness? How sad that some, cursed as we are, hold the lives of millions in their hands!
Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.