My soul, to death, is married.
Blackness, is the eyes of my emotion,
I smile at the noon,
To the soothe in the arms of rest in the grave
The dancers in that realm stretch to fetch my wrist
Sympathetic gestures down here seize the flow in our communes
Tears mean I’ll stay
Silence says I’ll stray
In the lines I see the hem of you faking my eyes in the above
Yesterday! Oh! That beauty in your purse
The hands that swum the night beam
The manly might in my voice, your NO has rumpled to Celine’s soprano.
My clarion wailings will haunt the next arms in the air
These heaves and grief will white the clouds stalking me
But in my eyes you roam
January’s summer was our emerald,
Now on that same spot I spill my heart
Take your shadow off my left breast
And let my tears sit to rest
The dusk rubbing the saliva of our kiss
Should hang their perhaps for eternity
Written by: Goodnews Mememugh Karibo
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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