Ireti

i dip my pen into the ocean of helpless fluids searching for hopeful cravings and my blood has rippled in a thousand torrents of expectations... but do you know that my lungs has torn,shattered and broken on pieced streets and pierced boulevards? know that i need need not be merged together for i am a victim,curdled on the back of expectations... you are the lost garment i search for in the holes of a torn garment, do you know how your thoughts reverberates in the hall of my mind ? ireti,what is the spirit that dwells in you? tell me your backbone and its custodian.. you break the rocking of my bone and paralyse the swiftness it curdles and wait..you turn my head down on the tongues of hard rocks... ireti..i am broken see me emerse my thoughts in the flowing waters of wisdom our fathers hold and i hold myself with twines of hope weaved by tender tailors with soft hands behind the hopeless garments of expectations... i am broken...not beyond repair for i am a victim curdled on the backs of expectations