Last Inspiration
Thoughts trickle what was left of my sanity,
Slowly but surely down my brain to gravity
Like the last drop of rain on a roof tile,
Being the last drop of hope to inspire the dwindling fire
That encourages my hand to move, drag the pen
Making lines & curves that don't retire
But follow the emotive contours of the mind,
Lagging behind are the scripture of ideas
Packed in years, invoking tears
But filling ears with endless fears
Of knowledge, so acknowledge these ramblings
Of an intellect's babblings
Educating the ignorant rattling the seeds of wisdom, scatting
So that the wise don't become dumb... I... Um...
Not going but hear me coming knocking at the subconscious, beat like a drum
As I hum the Uma mantras of where I'm from
Where the blind envision the ray of hope at the end of the tunnel
But no! It's a funnel at the end is a candle
Which all writers handle. Enlightenment
Where the others paddle in dark punishment
Of ignorance, so tip the scales or make them balance
With your weight of your lyrical stance
Not baggy pants but with your common sense
Will make them dance as if they've got ants in their pants
Because you're true essence is in your presents.
Copyright © Siza Sibiya | Year Posted 2013
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