By Vincent Nelson


Today is the day I died

Just as every other day is…

I died yesterday, today and morrow

And every day a heart reads this

That by dying, I live…


Yes, I live not in the confines of the grave

Yes, neither in the horizon of any vault

But in the expanse of hearts…

But then…

The pelting march of the storm was silent

The rain drops beat the ground

Without a sound

It’s in the land of oddity

Rather, of oddity herself.

The wonderings of my heart

Rather, the wanderings of a dead man’s heart

Have remained unanswered

Where are you taking me to? I ask.

“Heaven”, they say On point…

“Heaven that spits fire like a raged dragon”

But I bet you would not find God there…

Shell fact!


Today is the day I died;

Yes, the very day I died

“Heaven is hell?”

But there is silence holding still my worrisome.

If God is not in heaven, then where is He?

Is He then in hell, or here on earth?


It is the day I died

Yes, the very day I died.

In the acute roaming of my heart, I have decided this;

That though dead I am,

And neither heaven nor hell bound, I know not

Whether thither my head would lay

That in this dead skin where I ‘bide

I would surely live a life

That in death I might live.


It is the day I died…

And everytime anywhere a man reads this

Again, I die

Again, I die…

About the author

Bada Yusuf Amoo