Her Beckon..Yes Wisdom's Call

Not revealed to asses' or beasts, Kept from those Flying Angels, Reserved specially for you, She leaves me and the soul of man is dead, Leaving my shores so dry, The clamour of those dead shells so loud, My shining chain Armour is now a nothing, maybe cracked wood, Tears, Gethsamanic tears, Putting sail WISDOM rowed aways, You can imagine my shores in summer, Her absense has left my shores a hot miragious sandy duned desert, My days have seen plagues, woes and throes, I am Humbled, More sobered. In my humility did she remember me, Then did she give me her loving passion and care, Among our vows were her hatred for pride, She consoled me listening to my honest cries, My wise friend solomon...hmmn! Please imagine my present state of mind, I sit in limbo, My arms akimbo, Head devoid of stupor, Only Swirling to her sweet adore, Do tell me her names at your pace, Truelly, it was more of Gods grace, Which the soul of man never disgaraced, Please my friend do seek her face. She calls, She beckons, Do reckon, Do heed her call.