The Old Man has left, leaving thus the Apprentice desolate

It’s very hard for me to be emotional. I don’t know… I’ve always assumed that it’s not a thing for me. And for that, so many a time I’ve been monikered heartless but I can’t care about this right now. Maybe someday when I won’t have any serious venture to embrace. I doubt it ever happens. Well, that’s another story. Circumstances perhaps someday might tell. If time does allow.

Time. It’s incredible what impact time can have over our lives. We come to life, we age and then we transcend. Then another cycle. Then another one. Then another one. It doesn’t end. Till we truly find ourselves and become whole as we embrace our Call.

The Call. What I’ve devoted my life to ever since I realized what I am. Who I am and why I am here. To some extent, you’ve been of a tremendous help in this chapter. We both know. Such beautiful memories that I will never obliterate. It’s not like I can after all.

As I sit here on the sofa reminiscing our moments with a heavy heart, I regret to have thought that I needed time to build what we talked about before getting back to you. Now I know I shouldn’t have done that. I definitely should have checked on you lately. Now they said they you’re gone and I can’t believe it. I don’t wanna believe this. I am not ready. I am definitely not, professor.

You couldn’t just leave like that. I still have things to tell you. Things to ask you. Things to learn from you. Now I am getting fucking emotional and I don’t like this. I don’t like this pain. this feeling. This empty Hole you’ve just left inside of me. a big painful hole I will carry all along the path.

Of all the college professors that I’ve had, You were the only one I had a very close relationship with. It took me years to dare to talk to you for the first time. I mean for real except for moments in class. Not because you were a man difficult to satisfy but due to the fact that you only embrace excellence.

Many of my mates would go like, are you crazy? I’ve always called you my first real mentor and you’ve been the first to tell me that I could write beautiful pieces. That I had to. You said that I had what it takes. You would even compare some of my pieces to some great writers’ and that pride, lord I will embrace this my entire lives. This one and all the others. Because you saw the sparkle and you gave me permission to embrace it. To live by it. You asked me not to shrink.

You taught me so much and whenever I remember the things we’ve talked about, I am like, yes, it only takes gut and excellence to talk to you. It always makes me proud. You taught me excellence because it does define you. You taught me integrity and humility. You once told me as we were discussing at your place that I should never forget to be humble and every time I try my very best to live by it.

I’ve never seen a man like you. I’ve never seen anyone like you. More importantly, I’ve never been that proud of spending quality time with anyone else. There’s no one like you. literally. They say you were a dangerous library. Will I ever be that? I know I made a promise. I know I gave you my word but I don’t know if I will ever have what it takes to make you proud.

I’ve always wanted to be like you in terms of excellence, integrity, humility and so many other virtues that will forever define you but I don’t know. I don’t know if I will ever succeed in doing it. I am not shrinking. You taught me not to. But, who’s gonna mentor me now? Now that you’ve left, how am I supposed to do this?

You’ll forever remain my inspiration and I hope to feel you, to see you in another envelope very soon. I know Walt Whitman was right, All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

Safe trip professor until we meet again.

Death is but a doorway to another reality. When you get there, please do find a way to keep teaching me. To keep sending me vibes. I remember you would often say, there’s poetry in everything that you write, Poet.
That’s the kind of thing that you don’t easily forget.

The Old Man has left and now the Apprentice is desolate on the sofa.

His Fate
To my Professor Rene Ahouansou
With you, I wrote this.

That’s how I feel.
The fate of the Poet.

Hi the Poet!
You’re not alone.
You’re with your muse.
Be happy!

O my dearest professor,
A try, I gave.
For happiness, I long.
Still, I remain solitary.
My muse’s gone.
The Poet is insane she said.

To be a port, you tread unfamiliar paths
That like you, appear insane to others.
You’re a poet!
Just be happy!
Though Verlaine and Baudelaire were not.

Being strange, yet himself.
Misunderstood, the fate of the Poet.
A port to the unfamiliar,
That’s why he ‘’is’’.
That’s why I ‘’am’’.
Scribo Ergo Sum.

Such a beautiful wish,
The Poet cannot afford.

Such a beautiful wish,
The Poet cannot afford.

Paterne Freeman Shadowriter , As We Walk Through Life, Poetry Volume