By Choice, Pretends You Are Not No More Poem by Tony-Cemaluk Egbuonu

You must have rounded off, wherever you are
in that distant land, serene land distinct
from lands beyond many seas.

As you would say, 'Masters down, done and dusted';
now gearing up for the terminal, unterminated.

Soon, you would be back, to where you left,
with goodies for the fortunate group
that you led as a great group leader.

Sure, you would come home with accolades,
sounding as huge church bells,
to summon your acolytes for a sermon
of lectures before your revered Priest.

I know.
It's a choice.

I await the never-to-come day,
living in a fool's paradise.
By choice, I rather chose not
the reality of your residency
in a serene distant land
of no see and no return,
upon no seas to cross.