I heard a story of a lily with a golden crown
A story told, not by words but by the absence of sound
Evident was the poison that drove men to unconsciousness
and a whisper, swearing never to be wanting, never to be found
The tale of a mysterious warrior, finding her glory in the sound of an empty bottle
I heard she was subtle in her words, meek, and never caused trouble
Blooming like the wild lilies
I heard she was lovely, sweet, and full of life
and for that reason, I heard they never saw her coming,
You spare no prisoners, you keep collecting
Your jar of souls found yearning and wanting
and so I kept my distance to save myself from you
but then I heard the whispers, and it was time for me to choose
I was curious and believed to be the exception
To survive, my only mission
My hopes and dreams, my only redemption
She was lovely, sweet, and full of life
She was subtle, meek, and never caused trouble
But she had scars and grew thorns to survive
She wishes to be free, to let go of her jar of souls
but she needs them to feel wanted, and so the story goes
Silly Lily don't you know you are worth more than gold
Shed those dead leaves of resentment, regret, and blame
Dip your feet in the fountain of newness
and flourish in an existence that befits your glory
More than anything, love yourself
Be the author of your story.
About the Creator
Juo Nwafor-Orizu
I find myself drifting into words, I can't help it and I don't mind it. It's almost as if reality is the invader and my imagination a pure bliss of theraputic nostalgia. I hope your experience reading them are enjoyable.
Keep reading
More stories from Juo Nwafor-Orizu and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Little Bit Of God
January 2026 I thought I’d spend the night in neon lights on grainy film but my brother is telling me how an eternity of hell is caused by prevalent peace, and who am I to disrupt such a thing? So I found myself in the same skin with the same sights, wondering whether or not I am one of those– do I feel peace? Do I expect more when it is gone? It being everything. We’re running out of time but the car is belching up something strange and we’ve got God in between our eyes nodding along to every apology and plea spoken for our friends and loved ones– they don’t know any better, they’ll come around eventually. He’s telling me about barbed wire guides around lives and ties and wives and lies and, look, the snow is starting to fall so I guess we better hang up soon. But it’s been too long. We’re building fields of skills and realms of distrust and these moments are only seen now, can no longer be read as words, only swept with eyes upon oil pastels or smudged charcoal. It’s a painting of an evening, like Daniel’s soles in Edgar Degas’ mind, but if anything is just it’s the lack of unrest in skin like His and lives like this– okay, so maybe five hours on the phone is a lot if you have a job and you’re trying to cook dinner, but only one of us falls into that gorge and only one of us believes in what lies beneath it. My brother tells me things that sit in my spirit like half an ounce of prospect and a squeeze of bourn, how he tells God to let me in: despite my sins, despite all the moons in between these calls, despite the burning in both of our throats. I do feel peace here. I also feel that my peace is a subpar window job, a pinky’s strength avoiding blizzards inside the bedsheets. I’d like to spend more nights like this, with contrasting disaster living between a speakerphone, and God finding some space in between.
By Olivia Dodge7 days ago in Poets
Thoughts on Vocal and the way the world is
"Death cannot stop true love, only delay it." – Wesley in The Princess Bride. I decided to come back to Vocal on a very cold and dark night at the end of December. I had been, and still am, convalescing from a horrible staph infection that had gone misdiagnosed for months. This, paired with the increasing challenges of being healthy, making the best choices for my co-parented child, being a wife, and being a director at a new job, was a lot to manage.
By Jazzy 5 days ago in Confessions
Comments (1)
Inspiring!