Send us the glowing stars
So we can crown his head.
Lend us the skies
To veil his valiant heart.
“Grant us strength, oh, Yah
Lest the darkness do us drown!”
Cover his modesty with the sun
And bathe his soul with the seething sea,
For to live is to die,
But to love is worth of earth’s pride!
“For your eyes are the fairest,
Your skin silky and sallow.
come be a part of my life
And in turn share its sweetness may”
” Away with you oh braveheart
for my love is too puppy
to quench your ambitious taste
I am only but too plain for your impress”
“Too plain? Do not mock my reverence
For my eyes have been more than dazzled by your gait
and your virtuous voice has poisoned my mind
You are lyk the forbidden fruit, too magnificent
Yet too tempting to behold unless…”
” oh spare me the silly flattery my lord
for I am only yet but a budding child
and know not how I can satisfy
the affections of such worthy a grace”
“oh! though thou cut me short as I admire thy smile,
as much as I like I may not see you
nor may I embrace or have a chance to kiss you.
Yet deep inside I know you are the sunshine unto my soul
thus like in war, your love is a prize I will die for” ( attempts to hold her waist)
” Uphold your peace you fool!
For my love is not for you to tear
nor my heart for you to break
But greater is he, that sees beyond my face”
Tell me why the world runs wild inside of me
why the sun burns like a furnace torching my mind?
tell me why the heaviness in the air drowns my smiles
shattering their luminance into a million shards
that descend like mist onto my uncovered heart?
tell me why my cries dig gutters in my psyche
plunging me deeper into the torments choking my sight?
Why, my mouth feels like a trove of grit,
and my heavy eyelids shield me not from the maddening demons?
why there is broken glass running through my veins?
why this noise causes my ears to rapture,
and the wind wheezes down my lungs like a harmattan,
drying my inside, shriveling it to nothingness?
tell me why
why my mind spins itself into a whirlwind,
breaking down everything in its way?
tell me why i do this to myself
tell me why
tell me
why
why why
why
whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy??? (screaming)
As the nights are entwined
Our thoughts are enshrined
Upon your luminous smiles
And my earnest eyes.Into the unknown we thrust
Our timid souls and vapid hearts.
Reckless in our intentions
Yet oblivious to the lustrous rigors
Of our disastrous desires.As unrestrained emotions collide
The desiccating void is denied
Amidst the rage of doubt
Surging forth from our fervid past.We venture into depths that consume our lust
And reject our besmirched innocence.
Tender in their ferocity
Yet enrapturing in their intensity.We strive until-
Suddenly-
Like a hasty breeze.
Salvation comes!
Further beyond this ghost
lies a picture so gaunt,
so cruelly contorted
so heartrending in its splendour,
it shackles up your mind.
A picture of struggles within struggles,
a two headed monster
that devours the hands that feeds it.
Complex in its complexity
yet demonic in its animosity.
Scattered blood of both friend and foe
paint a gruesome masterpiece,
with lovely strokes of deception,
strokes of betrayal
and strokes of popular contempt
that up to now continue
condemning the hopes of the mass
into a deep void of gloom.
Yet the ghost continue hovering over famished souls
like a terrible ecclesiastical romance
that though unreal,
is forever shoved down our throats,
hence we all sing along
to the distorted drums;
drums of over-washed tales,
drums that celebrate the entrenched lies
fashioned to blinker our minds.
Surely how can one man hold fort
the hopes of a people
simply because he died for them,
an untruth so impregnanted in our present
that it colonises our past
uprooting reality from its depth
replacing it with shallow deceitful wiles?
The drums condemn our hopes to the grave,
that mirthfully awaits our descend
which without much ado
would be a pleasant escape from this furnace,
a furnace of gagged mouths and hungry stomachs,
a furnace of dark cold dreary nights
and wearisome waterless fiery days.
Now only those who celebrate his death,
the selfless prince who sacrificed all
for a bite at the people’s reverence,
enjoy the perennial fruits of the struggle
whilst we continue to scrounge in the dust.
Time and again,
their humourless wrath outpours
like a heartless bitter storm,
so vicious,
so ruthless-
when you dare to vent your frustration.
Trying times we live in
my son,
I pray our wounds will heal
for I know
one day someone will hear
our malignant cries.
screams from deep within 