A Dying Soul.
There' on solitude,
Wounded by their windy deeds of jealousy,
Wounded by their windy deeds of treasures,
Thought there' in plays,
But not of vivid terms of picture,
There' on solitude,
But not of there ways in picture,
There' on solitude,
Gone too far,
Gone in the physical,
Gone from the midst!
They w'll not understand!
For though it's difficult and must say,
I know them too well,
Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, and Wisdom of Solomon,
They shall tried but not of the callers,
Testifiers of life i called,
Peharps, witnesses of mind.
There' on solitude,
Appealing a rescue,
For they in everywhere want,
Begging to have by force,
They are not dumbed,
They speaks but very silence,
Fear to surrender,
Fear for their deciet of confusion,
For they are liars everywhere,
For they are killers of no accusation,
What to do,
In this windy treasures of their powers,
Death preferably?
For i know it well,
Days and nights,
Thanks his grace,
His grace of been a being of days,
For they knows that he knows,
A prophet in class,
A dying soul.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
Added by Poetry Lover
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