When I first came to Germany,
I died, slowly and gradually.
And - this is the worst part -
I died alone, inside my heart.

Some might say it is a death
Akin to the planted seed
That dissolves inside the earth
En route to being freed;

Freed from the past and the old -
The path to growth into the new.
But death is empty, dark, cold.
And lonely. I never knew.

There is a path that leads back to life;
Beware - it is more painful than death
And it too with loneliness is rife
From which will emerge your second breath.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river