Details |
Isaac Newton Ojok Poem
Hopeless Despair, I felt Bududa
I sit in despair as,
fleeting thoughts axe my mind
knowing there is no mending
for this my tortured soul and spirit.
There is no peace that I can find.
I can't sleep, nor can I eat, where are the bed and the food?
My spirit, scattered beyond repair, am ruined
I felt Bududa
Am at home, but homeless
Hopeless and hapless
I have life, but life less from the inside
I stand on this mad and my feet feel,
The death of earth`s delight-fulness
Shattered in fright by the water falls from the sky,
To my eye, I see the message in my mind that the soil can be dreadful
As it slides in form of mud.
Feeling obsolete,
sitting on a bed of discouragement
with head in hands and weeping.
The hands of hard time has touched us
drowning our hopes and desires
Depression wraps its entrails,
around us like a blanket of bush fire,But yet it is, so cold
as we search for the shadow of relief.
Just a shadow, just a hope,
to lift this discouraged soul like a dove
where my soul, my mind, and my body
will no longer languish in hopeless despair.
I felt Bududa.
Copyright © Isaac Newton Ojok | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Isaac Newton Ojok Poem
Hopeless Despair, I felt Bududa
I sit in despair as,
fleeting thoughts axe my mind
knowing there is no mending
for this my tortured soul and spirit.
There is no peace that I can find.
I can't sleep, nor can I eat, where are the bed and the food?
My spirit, scattered beyond repair, am ruined
I felt Bududa
Am at home, but homeless
Hopeless and hapless
I have life, but life less from the inside
I stand on this mad and my feet feel,
The death of earth`s delight-fulness
Shattered in fright by the water falls from the sky,
To my eye, I see the message in my mind that the soil can be dreadful
As it slides in form of mud.
Feeling obsolete,
sitting on a bed of discouragement
with head in hands and weeping.
The hands of hard time has touched us
drowning our hopes and desires
Depression wraps its entrails,
around us like a blanket of bush fire,But yet it is, so cold
as we search for the shadow of relief.
Just a shadow, just a hope,
to lift this discouraged soul like a dove
where my soul, my mind, and my body
will no longer languish in hopeless despair.
I felt Bududa.
Copyright © Isaac Newton Ojok | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Isaac Newton Ojok Poem
Hopeless Despair, I felt Bududa
I sit in despair as,
fleeting thoughts axe my mind
knowing there is no mending
for this my tortured soul and spirit.
There is no peace that I can find.
I can't sleep, nor can I eat, where are the bed and the food?
My spirit, scattered beyond repair, am ruined
I felt Bududa
Am at home, but homeless
Hopeless and hapless
I have life, but life less from the inside
I stand on this mad and my feet feel,
The death of earth`s delight-fulness
Shattered in fright by the water falls from the sky,
To my eye, I see the message in my mind that the soil can be dreadful
As it slides in form of mud.
Feeling obsolete,
sitting on a bed of discouragement
with head in hands and weeping.
The hands of hard time has touched us
drowning our hopes and desires
Depression wraps its entrails,
around us like a blanket of bush fire,But yet it is, so cold
as we search for the shadow of relief.
Just a shadow, just a hope,
to lift this discouraged soul like a dove
where my soul, my mind, and my body
will no longer languish in hopeless despair.
I felt Bududa.
Copyright © Isaac Newton Ojok | Year Posted 2012
|