Details |
Micheal Houessou Poem
No qualms how you treat me; I'm just too soft,
And I've got lofty kindness, I'm patient.
But why? You me so hard and so much off,
And leave me ill as a constant patient.
Like I never deserve any fairness?
Or was my day cursed as from birth?
From much liquor, you're of extreme highness.
What's it worth then, if living is for death?
No season to believe any reason,
It's all chaotic dilemma and pain.
you life! For every past mal-season;
What's good to loose all good, would my soul gain?
you agent of , darn and you fate!
If I'm tested too sore, then what is faith?
-Arch Micheal-
#ArchWrites
#Life
Copyright © Micheal Houessou | Year Posted 2020
|
Details |
Micheal Houessou Poem
Would thou revile me so much lover dear?
That thou teacheth mine heart to hate at fate?
Would I regret I e'er knew thee or fear?
Art thou mine archfoe or a true fate mate?
Mistaken, thou thought her to be a wife,
Thy hurt by her, a lesson rent perhaps.
Alas! It's all but gaming, what a life;
It's full of odium, pain and cruel mishaps.
She gave to thee of all, none: heart or time,
She swore and plan to sore thee, what disdain.
But thou hast found love, Jophiel for thine mime;
Indeed, found thou a heart and crown to reign.
As learnt of life's forte and thought without end;
That all of life's Worth's in death, live my friend.
Copyright © Micheal Houessou | Year Posted 2020
|