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