Give

After midnight,
around 1 o’clock,
I’ll call you,
I hope then, you’ll give me like always, your love,
However you may feel,
take my call,
choose the green press
No matter what
please…

After morning,
Perhaps around 1’oclock,
I’ll wake up to woes of my folly,
Of calling you under the influence,
I’ll regret my ways,
And perhaps decide then to let you part,
I don’t know.
But I ask,
When I call
Listen to me, to my afflictions,
Give me whatever remains of your love for me,
Give me…
Coz lately I need you.

Inspired by Ed Sheraan's ''Give me Love''.

The prodigal man,

Like an educated fool,

I had become proud

of riches serving my greed.

In my vanity,

I had disowned my people

and gave myself to an ever discontent world

of hypocrites and unbecoming saints

And though in the privacy of my thoughts,

I had acknowledged my previous life,

it had seemed to me

the feigned shame was much better to parade.

and so I would,

each time to a newer audience of friends, tell

of how I had grown into this man,

without the help of my village people.

I had relished in the folly of hypocrites,

who indeed had loved me with strict criterion,

scraping off what they could from the surface,

and leaving me when it had all withered,

Indifferent of an inner void they were emptying.

Shall I return home,

And eat of my shame no more.

Shall I return home and tell my people,

I had left to pursue so much more

And found absolutely nothing.

Clearly…

I want to see you

As a child,

life had seemed a mellow glide

of infinite giggles and a nicer forever,

Oh what joy we had soaked,

When a darling favour

Had made certain we enjoy

 The glow of a nonchalant sun.

Looking back

It seems the years had progressed

into a harsher seriousness,

Calling out of a girl: a woman,

One who would carry her own agony

of deciding the latitude of her sins.

Two decades later,

It seems she is naïve

Of whom the mirror is reflecting,

Her sorry eye, gazing back

at the mirrored unfamiliarity

Here’s her story:

Hello Yah.

Hello Yah.

Hello Yah.

Are you there?

Or am I simply crying out to a vague nothing,

One from which atheists feed their faith.

Am I all alone, progressing into an abyss

of faith and actual naught?

And yet I dwell,

Believing evermore in the halo,

Sensing strongly, something of its substance.

Whoever you are, I feel you.

Whoever you are, you immaculate spirit,

Of unimaginable splendour and unfailing love.

You know I am yours,

without divide and despite it,

Tattooed on the palm of your hand,

Your essence and mine,

ever mindful of one another.

Tell me to hope,

Tell me to dream,

Tell me to be,

And mostly tell me who you are.

I want to see you.

Amen.

We all want something.

I kept my gaze discreetly from the side as I

stared at the childish delight in his eyes.

the boy that he once was

wooed me into an unfamiliar pink of romance.

 

He talked to me through his eyes

as though inviting me into his personal seclusions.

I engaged him with a timid blush,

to subtly receive a bliss of this unexpected seduction…

and then he abruptly
busied himself with a random fellow,

conversing with him about winter’s chill,

 deliberately digressing from the conversation

we were having with our eyes,

I felt a discomfort in his tone

and a rushed oblivion in his eyes

as he looked at something on the floor,

seeking to forget the uneasy mood in the air.

A  beautiful lady appeared  

and kissed him on the cheek,

her smile inspiring a glow on his face.

Her advances confronting me to stay away.

I obliged and

apologised with a  shaky nod

and went my  way,

to run away from the private disgrace,

As I made it to the door

with an invented fuss,

he chanced a glance

to see whether I’d leave

without stealing a glimpse myself,

for He too was unsure

of whether we had wanted the same thing.

but we all want something

everyone wants something…

Inspired by Rihanna’s We all want love

At last

A beautiful acoustic attunes false strings
to create a lullaby  that penetrates the forlorn abyss of a crying man,
the song bothers  his idle tranquillity,
and pushes him into an awakening,
so he may brave perils labouring to burst.

beyond the debris of his thought
he can see the greenery on the foreign side
looks feeble to invade, and something else in the fighting midst
warrants him a fortitude to forge ahead,
but it’s really a dear someone,
who feeds him strength in a hopelessness as damning such as this

Though he knows to quit is a fathomable excuse,
He now understands it’s a false utopia,
one shamed by God for the temporal refuge it provides.
The only way is to brave the fray...
so there he goes...
to confront the foes

there,He’ll encounter barren paths,
feigned cheers of encouragement,
and at times no one unto whom he can rest.
But he must go on,
on the road less taken,

there,
 peace, purpose and love are
amply fed to him by a God,
who brought him there in the first place.
and this will be his dwelling
forever and ever…
 so help him God.

In the night

In the night,

when the rain could have settled gently on the soil,

when thunders torment me to feel

the fear pulsating in my heart,

the Lord will be my strength.

In the night,

when lonely hearts listen to slow blues,

I’ll sound some lyrics from Psalms

And feel the joy of the Lord settling upon the chaos,

For the Lord is my strength.

In the night,

when sweet nothings could have sedated the pain,

I’ll choose to cry the tears,

and manoeuvre out of the cess,

For the Lord is my strength,

He will carry me through it all.

In the night,

When their voices thief my sleep,

I’ll look to the Lord like

Sheep flocking to their shepherd,

And his voice will silence the noise,

For the Lord is my strength.

In the night,

When the silence could have supposed my sleep,

I’ll converse with the Lord,

The way a suitor would romance his beloved,

For the Lord is my strength,

He woos me out of the noise…

In the night,

At my weakest,

God will be my strength…

Everything erodes,
Even the gold that swiftly rests on the rich,
It too erodes
But God remains

I’ve traversed life’s lanes
And questioned man's purpose,
That insatiable hunger to pass on something for generations yet to come,
…to win perhaps even the approval of men already gone,
To give to them a timeless gift,
But even man’s approval erodes
But God’s remains

I’ve looked at famed people of the present time,
And how they yearn to leave something behind,
Something of value, something befitting a legacy,
Oh! How they labour tirelessly to
Imprint their signatures on the sands of time!
But I’ve realised
Even the legacies of famed heroes erode,
But God’s remains

while in the abyss
I’ve walked by my own might,
And relied on my own sight,
But struggled for I was strong,
And triumphed only when I was weak,
…left perplexed by life’s contradictions.
Who knows why I am here anyway?
I looked up some verses in Ecclesiastes & Matthwess
then Jesus gave me an epiphany,

The purpose of man is to:
Walk with God,
Live with God,
Know God,
Trust God,
Obey God
 Worship God,
Love God
And to love another..
That in itself is true purpose,
A timeless freshness of being alive,
A living legacy for children to receive to follow and to pass on,
Nothing compares to this
Age to age...