HEAVEN PLEASE

 

Stories they say, are living history...

pains and joy make up a story...

like a sage, my story i will tell tomorrow...

when upon lives many thread of rued chances we treaded...

when upon lives seductive sword we fell...

mourning our dead and the living; yet to die... 

our gaze anchored within the seamles clouds...

our tears carved out contours on the bare grounds...

the anthem sour in our mouths...

the flag of defeat we waved towards the Heavens...

the wind bruised our bare skins...

the sun retreated into its shell...

to darkness,our protend deemed...

the rain soddened us to stupor...

our curses from EDEN romanced our evry steps...

who shall tell our stories? We yelled...

who shall say to us; it is well? ...

faced to the sky, we echoed; HEAVEN PLEASE!!!

 

                             Macsimeon Simeon (Qoolmonk)