Sad

Hear me here
Moaning in cheer
Mourning each tear
Can't see clear
Can't ignore this pain
It's so deep near

Feel my heart's bid
Not to yield
To this dust
That wears masks
To make my agony must
I see all over
Dim truth masts
A shaken soul
A weak love

I want to take it slow
Want to make it flow
I don't want to make it show
Sad
Like am fading
Am really losing touch
With myself

Am trudging
Along this dusty road
With a hurt rod
By my shaking hands
It's cold
The sun can feel my trod
Pain untold
Sad

A Beauty Burning

A beauty burning
Burns me
To smiling faces
Warming phases
I turn to look back
My moments black
Days I was stuck
In sorrow struck

A beauty burning
That maddens me
Inspires my anger
Into unreasoning mud
The ugly beauty of love
That I can't live without
Without a doubt
Sometimes appaling
Sometimes so appealing
Peels off my nature
With her heat
Flies me into danger
The danger of falling in love

A beauty that insecures
A beauty that revives me
A beauty that makes me jealous
A beauty burning
A beauty marvellous

Me

Hearings
Of my life musings
Like music at the peak
Of the expression
Of my hidden virility
Inner concepts to this existence
Honourable
Charming and elegant
Like the pomp and colour
The profound musicality
Of
Violins and violas
Violoncellos from a distance
Harps and clarinets
Gracing the accompaniment
Of my life
Who I am

My heart's writing repertoire
Describe
The insights of my destiny
My vitriolic past
Duped into forgetment
Am running after
Triumphant breath
As big as the Laurasia
As tender as my vivacious love
White hot profundity
Just where I dwell
Rationale behind my being
Till am never alone
Like divine living
'tis an upward way
To cupture the verve moments
Of gusto and vitality
Finding myself
Almost oracular

Pit-a-pat
Goes my heart
With the natural beat
The God gift
Giving me the rhythm
Music makes me live
The soothing sounds
Of
Ukuleles and orutus...drums
Melodious shakings of sweet tambourine
The pluckings of the African banjo
Keep me going When life becomes a trudge.

Thrown Stone

How many people know what love is?
Not a question
To ask a thrown stone
Left alone
So love lorn
Ravaged soul
War torn
Prone
To happiness dead born
Bonds
Of dusk morns
What love can such a soul define?
With bitterness refined
At the core of a life redefined
How many people know what love is?
What life is to live in apathy?
When rain brings pain
More than the blessings it reigns
More of the tears we fear
Brought to our eyes so clear
Have to be forced
Burnt and Torched
Like a thrown coin
Scorching in the old sun
Loneliness run
Deep inside lies
A sorry scene
To be precise
Thrown stone
Again flown
Disowned
By life
By love
Tears...

Rest

Rest
In calmness prose
Like still waters
When commotion visits
A peaceful heart

It does no good
To add pain to pain
And make hurt ooze
From a wounded heart
Rest

Rest
In the storm of confrontation
Breed more quiteness
Like a wisdom root
To make a sun out of darkness

Only the meek
Make this moment a fountain
Rest then...rest
Know when it's best
To arrest unrest

Fallen

Array of bullets
With astray intentions they go
Blue uniform
A field of unjust conformity
What a justice to kill
Murder and cover up
Yet light was not asleep
Fallen
Fallen are the culprits
The suspect and the shooter
Fallen is the system
Living by rich lies
Dark ties in dark times
Tough tides
The protector becomes the murderer
What a society!
What a force!
Fallen are we
Who fear to come out strong
To condemn the same
Fallen
Fallen are our tears
Dried crying out for justice
Amidst this truth malpractice
Hatred accomplice
A murder accomplish
What are we then?
Who do we trust with our sovereignty?
The fallen?
The fell?
Or we,the fallen?
Fallen...

My Side Of The Story: Heed Young Blood

My Side Of The Story: Heed Young Blood: "Breed seed
Seek for meek
Reach unhaste
And
Hearken the counsel

Do it
Young blood
Respect the sun
It ages your skin
As your days
Grow dismal..."

Heed Young Blood

Breed seed
Seek for meek
Reach unhaste
And
Hearken the counsel

Do it
Young blood
Respect the sun
It ages your skin
As your days
Grow dismal

Pray
That you may
Not fall prey
To evil enticement
But thy conscience fill
The earth with zeal

Not time
Nor God
Shall wait
Your awakening

Not love
But self
Ought to wake
From the depth
Of teasing slumber

Heed
Oh Heed
Young blood.

End Of A Dream

Passion defines itself
Deep
In a heart thumping beat
These bits
Of lifefull hopes
Lightful nights


The talk of self
Carries with it
Power 
To make or break
In conscience
Right inside the heart


What else is mirth
Than to reach
At the once far horizon
Of dreams
Possibles in impossibilities
Love


Time ticks away
And a hope comes true
To say sigh
Relieve a pain
Heal a disturbed patience
Like the end of a dream