The plight of the lonely touches me The one whose heart is broken
But who really cares about him?
Who cares about her?
Isn’t he just a victim of Love? They say!
Didn’t she just find herself on the rough side of love?
And aren’t there others like her?
Who even gives a shit about his heart,
If it’s broken or shattered?
But can Ìmísíolúwa see all these and walk away?
Isn’t it for this reason that his father made him king?
A king of thoughts and words
That he might bind up the broken hearted
Speak a word in season to the weary
Shall he then turn his pen away from such injustice?
Or shall he not defend the cause of the destitute,
The one who has no heart to stay?
But how can he learn to judge rightly
If he himself would not suffer the pain?
How shall a king see the plight of his own,
If the palace he wouldn’t leave?
Perhaps, that he might comfort others with the same comfort with which he had been comforted with.
Long live the King.
(C) 2015, Ìmísíolúwa.
#IamImisioluwa, and I believe in Love, that it can be sweeter and better than is obtainable.
Shall we apply our heart to eternal wisdom and enjoy love in its purest form, or shall we walk in the ways of the before?
Hope you enjoyed yesterday’s #tiwantiwa?
Enjoy your evening!
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