Happy Thursday, happy new month ♥️ I hope you all had a lovely Wednesday with Psychology with Muna! Today I have a poem by John Richmond Sakala. He is undoubtedly a good writer and poet, always passionate about touching souls in best possible and positive ways. You can read more of his poetry and articles on his blog http://voiceofthepoint.home.blog
I hope you are already on your way to following his blog💛
Happy reading lovelies ♥️
Gone are the lilies, its petals progressively dry out,
Dry are the sycamore trees, no more can we expect her flowers to sprout,
Invisible the horizons when you stand on the banks of the seas, once flourishing now a desert’s drought.
The red to violet stretch flees; the cold collection of white untraceable on top of the mount;
And in tears I drop to my knees, for everything I held dear is gradually fading out.
Somehow I do not want to save any of it, for what boon has any of it ever brought to my doorstep?
What jot of it has secured me meat? In dire moments, didn’t they all, my soul forsake?
Have they not in my face insolently spit and all that holds in my sphere mightily shake?
I feel the stones, red hot under my feet, yes, now I know that I must watch my every step.
- The Journey Begins
- tuesday’s one world message
- Knowing your needs and wants; a step to financial freedom
- In the eyes of obsessive love.
- Citizen Journalism; is it the demise of Humanity?
I see the milliards of foes leading me down a path to a dark pit, and the suffocating hold on my neck makes it ever so hard to stay awake.
Care filled days and nights void of rest, but still I cannot from you part.
This I well knew from the first, by you delighted from the very start.
So I’ll count this absurdity as blest, welcome the perturbing distraught feelings to be with me sat.
For this now present pain to my chest, is to my back but a mild pat.
Ah, then I choose to trade not what I have for what is deceivingly best, this current woe will soon from my bosom depart.
Then – REST –