My emotion lies on this bed
Rocking my felt hands on the past,
cleaning chaos cast.
This is the strong one as it wakes every nerve of unusual and arrests my fingers on the pen
to scribble what my mind cannot discern.
The outcry is faint to the ears on the wall of my skin
the tear drops
only to find a softer cheek of my heart.
Why do I feel this way?
Locking to sounds of lies as drums of sincerity beats
I have indulged long enough in the past,
sitting on ashes of burnt dances
enticing my memories
to comprehend what is best not to ever find.
As the ruby of my existence glitters to show me a way out.
I am cursed upon these depressing songs
that breathes with the second hand.
Harken yourself and find our mother
for she will make this not be a bother,
you will fly and not even remember
how you’re so gifted and so full of wonder
For emotions could itch you to scratch out yourself.
This battle between your doom and misery
shall be won and conquered and be called history.
When you do not listen to these depressing tunes
but persevere in the path pilgrims marched on sand dunes.
So find that word and let it be heard
That the poet’s tree sometimes gives you wings
that take you high, so you become a star.
A million miles away, songs sung at day
as you are sketched into existence
so the Magi look up to you for assistance.
Find that word. . . and fly
To watch more #WOWAfrica entry videos click HERE