The Rising Hills, the Slopes To Quench My Thirst
THE RISING HILLS, THE SLOPES, TO QUENCH MY THIRST.
In the last century, the hopes were little,
Grasses they collected, yellow bananas, they peeled,
To move up the slopes, preparation was fore filled,
Oh the grower of banana trees,
To reach the top - in his absence, one had to hustle.
Gone are the days when the hill was like a string,
To bump to the peak, Oh God, you were a King,
Was it that special, so the name?
Yes indeed, you wouldn’t beat around the fame.
The respect men gave it, when they sat under the shades,
After a long day’s work, collected their strides,
Ladies served the best glass, smoothening like honey,
Discussing the ups and downs of the journey,
Oh what a champagne! Indeed it was funny.
Seasons revolve and years change,
With no assistance, the Youths now in charge.
In a blink of an eye, he has climbed 5 hills,
A new mountain, he is set to face,
Too much power? what a waste!
Oh the pride when he reaches the peak,
The granny you see was the first to speak,
In fact, to climb, while it was still tough,
A little advice the youth before you cough.
This is a dirty choice,
Prancing your age,
You of Youth age,
Is it a curse?
Because it is worse,
Indeed like a vice that comes not once.
Why sleep off the mind, and leave the body without counsel?
Run with a friend, two are to tangle,
Set your music high, enjoy the vibe,
Music plays it cool with the slopes so fine,
Two hills are a good play, four are a jungle,
Hey! That’s too much, soon you’ll tremble.
There is power to kill in this hill,
The same that quenches our thirst if not ran smartly,
The wrath of four is to burn,
Yet the joy of one is to chill,
The greatness of a Youth is to learn,
That a smile comes with company,
It heals a frozen heart and clears the throat.
Together for a cock tail after a safe driving,
With the car, the bicycle, into joy you will be diving,
Call it off after the second hill, tomorrow for the rest,
I bet, it would be the best.
I am going from the peak to the valley,
Reaching out to the blind and the deaf, for salvation,
Neglected have I been in the other nation,
My arms and mind ready to help,
To preach the gospel of relevance and hope.
The good, drink while at home
The bad, drink 4 bottles,
The ugly, drink over
Yet! The wise, drink just enough to chill.
A narrow gate, a slim door is for those who pick a piece,
To avoid being hit a blow, so hard in the head,
Death and life matter ahead,
Would wish to see you sip one tomorrow,
The choice is yours, to take and follow,
As told by our ancestors; “A word to a wise…”
Our Youth guys,
The future of tomorrow,
In you is the dream,
But the rising hills.
Tomorrow, dears, the season of a dream,
Seeing the Youths ending Addiction,
With Smart Drinking, raising the banner,
Improved saving, reaching the ambition,
At the end of the tunnel, you’ll be the cream.
There are two venues for your choice,
A bar or a home, death or life, anger or peace,
Sorry, you cannot enter both,
You’ll have to look far and beyond to where the other is,
Where you’ll chose, so will your growth.
I don’t want to feed you with a bitter twisted lie,
Does my truth upset your mind so high?
Did you stop only because I had to mention?
Oh, I failed to tell you, I came with a small caution.
Just like over the earth, the sun does the running,
With its light on the hills and trees like the pine,
Dimming and shining at different times,
I dimmed while you were at the hill top and you thought all was fine,
Slow down, it’s high time you sloped for I am now shinning.
Did you want to see me broken?
Low head, and happy face taken?
Shoulders failing to hold me up,
Terrified by your drinking moods that are scaled up!
No! As the waters make toward the pebbled shore,
So do I beg and permit you to share.
Am I late youth?
Better late than never,
Drink it right brother,
Have the right sip sweet sister,
Let’s move the rising hills to the slopes,
At the end we shall quench the thirst.
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