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Tides aloft,
We shiver in despair;
Passion grow soft,
We opt to retire.
Swiftly they are gone,
The ever remembered moments;
Sadly we feel done,
That we need no better amendments.
Pleas arising,
Hearts resiliently stocky;
A party still appealing,
Another acting dorky.
Truly we are deeply hurt,
Secretly we wallow our tears;
Yet we act like we feel nought,
No matter the sweats that wear.
Let go if you're an intent,
But not with later remorse;
'Cos you'll top every fool's content,
For just lanceting your last impose.
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Writer Profile
Ibukun
I love the media asa tool for self-accalimed telescope of reasoning. I'm currently the Editor-in-Chief of Paragon Magazine in Nigeria.
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