
He whispers.
planting ugly seeds
of despair,
a cacophony
from the messenger
seeking to take refuge
in my head.
I whisper back,
not today, Satan!
never ever!
My whisper, more like a roar,
reverberates in my soul,
leaving shivers running from my tippy toes.
to my head.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha









