VANISHING BEAUTY.

 

Why do I still see you

Clouding my mind, blurring my view

Thought our stars had fallen

And our sun won't rise again.

That we've sang stanza last

And there's no refrain..

Why do I still see you?

In every moment, you come alive

Like you never died

Like your boat never left

The shores of our promising love.

Sourly, I saw you sail into distant seas.

Does a river flow backwards,

How come I still see you?

You blew in like a gentle breeze

Softly, subtly you swept off my feet

Without struggles, my heart took a bow

In obeisence to your solemn vow.

In a twinkle, you went with the wind

A wounding whirl wind!

Why then do I still see you??

ALL I WANT.

 

All I want is to be free

To live daily without fear

To stand up tall and walk

Having phobia for nothing.

.

Not haunted by strange faces.

The replica of the men in the dark sphere.

From the un-covered graves of the past.

Nor the un-dug ones of the future

.

Not threatened by rejection or dejection.

Because I belong to the minority

Because my spoon is not silvery

And I'm familiar with kpako than buttered bread

.

All I want is to rest with the night in peace

To stretch with the morning still in one piece

To go out peacefully and win my bread

Not worrying about a death sentence on my head.

.

All I want is to be a slave to no man

With liberty to execute my own plan

To be in the good book of fate

Until in peace accord I'm titled late.

.

That's all I want.

.

#quest_for_freedom

#quest_for_peace

RE-CREATOR-S

We would, rather to die than live,

But we remain, rather alive than die.

We are formally fixed in a state of fix

We see the unseen and on it rely.

When our weak eyes grow weary,

Weary of uncertainties of the seen,

The known subsumed in the unknown,

We retreat and rely on what is within.

When the ever looping circle,

Revolves and makes a complete turn,

The seen is seemingly in repetition;

We step out of the rotation for a run.

Now, outside the virtual loop, we run.

Though still confined in its circumference,

But seemingly free from the fix,

We see the unseen via our own lens.

We are renowned rebels,

Refusing to pay tribute to the circle

Unfixing ourselves from the virtual fix

Rebelling against every form of obstacle.

.

We rebel, to remain, rather alive than die!

A Song For You

Let me write for you a song,

To be sang with sorrowed tongue.

The stanzas would tell of our story

And the lines boldly imply icabod.

It would suit the morning mouners

As they sing to mourn a grave loss.

For we make a tale of two losers

Each losing end to end.

I will write of our rise and fall

How we went from sweet to sour.

How the spectators that cheered us

Now boo and jeer us off the stage.

I'll make a rhythm for an acrostic

For you to play with an acoustic.

The letters would spell out failure,

For that's all we are, nothing more.

Let our song be sang for generations

Let its echoes resound in tons.

Let it stand a stance in history,

Stacked in the achives of "tales of no glory"