I loved a man he doesn’t know! Remember that song?

Who could know such love,
The gentle touch of your strong embrace
I imagined
Who could know…
As you wave and wave,
Beckoning people to listen
To follow the mighty words
A face constricted and contorted
With damning concern,
Who could you…
A man after His own heart,
Who could know…
That each day I see you, your robe is whiter than white, Who could know, How much I only long to feel It stroke my feet, my hands, To cover my eyes from the scars around me, Keeping at bay, where heavens promises await A future time brought forward, Not for my rewarding, For His glory glorifying the earth.
And in your eyes,
Night comes and I snuggle in it to rest, Resting in my imagination, Your words give pillow to My echoing heart Who could know such a feeling?
That while you have forgotten
That as we move on,
I am still betwixt,
That even as you fold your vines with other vines, Our presence quenches my thirsty heart, Who could know such longing…

I spun a coin and
Here is my path, still in the maze of you, It may be bronze but I still mimic Your stature in every heavy stallion I meet, My heart is tamed and frozen In your time, Its emotions are framed, With a little spark of memory, They are ablaze and as quickly put out By the nuisance of reality, So why is white, white?
For who could know that my colour is magenta?
So what is black, black?
For I only know melanin cocoa.

I found a petal that resembled your rose, I bent to pick it up, Like a killer’s snare, It bit my hand and And my heart it pierced and squished, I swallowed the bitten of blood, Its bitterness addressed my aching heart, Like a leper, I felt so distasteful, The mildew taste leaves me parched for life.
Famished at the void life devoid of meaning, Who could tell?
Ashamed I looked in to the mirror
And saw my error,
And found your innocence,
Who could know how potent this heart’s song?
The whole while scorched by your purity
Your ways are smooth,
Your ways honourable,
To you I could only bow,
Even to knowing that,
You never can be my master.

So I must muster my ache,
Descend from the ladder,
Bandage the wholey-heart,
And take solace in posthumous caves,
That knows not your omnipotence,
And make lull my song for you.

These caves will blanket my nude heart,
These caves will cage its innocence,
These caves will narrow my way’s path,
These caves my tongue they will water
with gifts of contentment.

From its pond,
It won’t be your rod that carries me,
Your reflection that eases me
For in the waters,
I will see your shadow no more,
I will carry the tide,
For my own heart,
And call on the Magician of hearts to carry my load.
At Africa’s corner, he is a man of the village called Thumelwe, To take your place, Who has been lavished with much wisdom?
For those of itchy ears
he IS the Sent,
Sent for my life,
But I call him
Scent for my heart!

Lundi, October 6,2008….6:40

Posted by at 11:30 AM

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