namwano

Bad reaper, Bad reaper Crawled in Unannounced Plucking the unripe fruit Of virtuousness So juvenile, So tender Sweet, To the taste of its tongue But bitter, to my instincts. Stinging, to my eyes, with tears Crushing To my bones. No strength within me So I drop dreary on the surface… thank God, not made of stone. White sheet, immense heat Same moves, different persona Reverse to the bottomless pit of… Square one. No emotion, no reaction No articulation Hence no satisfaction. So this is love ey? Today Jimmy Tomorrow Johnny? True, One says I’m authentic; the other ten narrate I’m Fake I mean how much more can I take? Never once appreciated the genuine affirmation Of optimum caring So I stick to this game… this game called ‘Dead Loving.’    

The evening is streaming in Away from the hustle and bustle of the city I lazily lapse into the silence Under my little cottage Resting my chin in my right hand. I wonder, Oh how I wonder. I question, Though the silence responds, But with vague answers. My toes twitch As my thoughts, dart this way and that. I know who I am I know what I want. Though you say nothing Thus the uneasy state… My uneasy state. What I’m I to believe at this rate? Are you an acquaintance or my real soul mate? This far I have come with you by my side Tell me, Should I let go, or keep walking with pride? Signs of pain Appear on my face If you were anywhere near me You’d know I’m in dire need of Amazing grace That grace that once saved a wretch The kind I feel like now I feel so lost Eager to be found I am blinded By your so called ‘love’ I hope that I...