NURSED HOPES 1
amidst distractions ~
This life is nothing but a fountain where Angels and
demons meet; a
podium where God and Satan argue !
HOPES, once brightly painted
amidst confusion ~
Hopes nursed under the canopy of the old giant oak;
now as feeble as
the sons of Israel were to the death warrant of
on the fertile minds of mortals
and buried under prospects
now trickle down the cheeks
like tears of a terrible trauma ~
on the carcasses of these expired hopes
new variable seeds of hope would be nursed for
nature has coached man
the ways of life.
NURSED HOPES 
Yesterday is my witness
when my dreams sought refuge behind these fragile
these hopes;once rigid
now fractured ~
so we’ll hold hands and sing the songs sung by the
The giant Oak is my witness
how I clothed these hopes with passion
yes, these hopes
now as naked as the exhausted soils of the Sahara
perhaps I’ve been too coward on this journey; fear
planted a new frantic tattoo in my veins !
hopes; once innocently borrowed
from aliens afar
like figures concealed behind algebraic expressions !
now like Zion; how could I sing the Lords’ song in
Yet; I’ll still hold on to these hopes
for I witnessed myself
the million times the sun sunk in the west and how,
again, it mounted
greatness from the eastern corridors.