agitation

Tossed and blown about,

To the rhythm of every looming wind of emotions,
Here I stand under the pouring rain.
To wash away some tears shed again,
Cool the erupted emissions of this burning flame,
Flame of vengeance, flame of anger, flame of hatred,
Here I stand on this pilgrim way,
Of royals who smile, upon every stumbling pain,
Of a Saul waiting to be buried in pain,
A heart bruised a prisoner of internal jail,
Fears’ the jail within the pouring rain.
Weeping for a life lost: for justice delayed,
Weep ooh weep for,
Hope bears upon her hands, fete.
Of minds trouped and troubles doubled
Minds meant to make way on a trembling grain
Of sand and dust, to wash by the pouring rain


 by Robie Nson on Monday, May 7, 2012 at 7:02pm ·

© Robins 2012

ONE DAY AT A TIME

One day at a time,
more pain at a glance
who sent the saints to the cross?
Sun shines on earth,
yet burns the sacred shrines
while our own remains dark.
Who pours the rain to us?
Yet our hands' empty in blessings;
so does the fields of toil.
A thousand miles I have come,
hide and seek we play,
can't see till today
N find no more, yet I see.
My inner walls' gone dry.
No more tears; no more fears,
at the sound of my cry;
that tunes the world in dance.
Dance! Evil dance in pride
Dance! Romance' a mirrage, a dream, a wish.
While mine's closed; long dead.
My heart's dead.
Murdered most-fowl,
I was a fool; could not elude,
for them I stood, then I stoop,
for the mucky, dark-trail to drain.
I drained it all; all am drained.
My heart pumps nothing but pain,
while the dry wind dries no tear
comfort me not, comfort's a tale.
Found solace in solitude,
here I solemnize life
wake me not from sweet slumber
sleep not either with me this summer
sing out your joy, I'll stand out by n by...


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(C)  Robie Nson  2011