10/10/2021
Tilte; I'M WRITING NOT.
Poem collection; SCARED AND SCORCHED
Poet; Msese wa kondeni.
I'M WRITING NOT..
Am not writing,
For ink isn't my sting,
Like a pollen bee with fairly wings,
Why should I write,
When shadows don't foresee,
Their intentions as the see,
Why must I write,
When perceptions prostate,
Far from any reality of state,
It's my silence that keeps haunting,
I'm writing not.
Silence is in me,
Is it part of life?
Or may I deqoute this way,
it's related to our sacrifices!''
''Fate and miss-fortunes''
''Deaths and destinies'',
An old mole knows the earth's tremors well,
And so I conjuorn.
I'm writing not.
In silence,
It's eleven thirty minutes ago,
Still,stiffy, staunched and staffed by the chair,
By my wooden table,
By my solo-contained house,
With a wreckage of ancient books,
Papers, letters and shredded articles,
Maybe torn apart to my frastrations
Unfortunately it's my dislikes,
Still looking for my piety,
To throw them away like trash,
To reseek and redeem their use,
Just there,
By myself,
And my lone friend,
In crystal silence.
The silence in me,
I'm re-thinking, re-setting,
Re-adusting to re-focus on no mirror,
I don't want shadows that haunt me by looks,
I'm bored to such extent.
All alone with my solace intent,
Still in silence,
Dusk,that was lurking,has fade into the night,
My sleep as well frozen like a piece of ice,
Visitors from my norm encircle me,
Feelings and emotions,senses and thoughts,
Quire is their trait,
Doubtlessness in character,
Of which today turn me an orator,
Of my own ink,
I write not.
The silence in me,
Is it not for foolishness?
The silent movements of a tiger,
Aiming and targeting, attentively,
Or is it a calculation for accuracy?
The silence in me,
Reflections of hidden voices,
Voices of dear choices,
Choices have degnity,
Or may I requote myself,
Silence is a true friend,
who never betrays,
I'm writing not.
© All Copyright preserved.
©®Msese wa kondeni.