I cry out for reach. Tears down my blurry eyes for the souls that suffer in pain for vain.
Heaven knows how I feel, man in low self-esteem.
An atmosphere of sorrow surrounds as the blue sky turns yellow and red. Few words, some words, so many word can express the folly upon the face of the earth.
Is it not obvious? Who’s going to get it, is it you? Every morning in Africa, the spirits in woods call to the man simple at heart. No knowledge of where, but another journey towards a daily bread. Just by chance you’d say.
Oh! What an ‘almost there’ phenomenon. Where else is the place as promised when the waters look the same without direction?
A voice from behind calls for a Halt. What is needed goes beyond the realms of the flesh. Spirits recognize this, so they deceive with activity.
Hmm… The Word, The Act, just one in a few…Wisdom.
No one will shout this into a skull filled with busy. “Everyone is busy, few are doing the business”, so my teacher says to get me back on the rugged trail. I thirst for the few to be. Hunger drives me back into seclusion for think.
Who am I with wisdom?
I guess this question I should enquire from Angels every morning and evening on my bed before the deal of the subconscious.
The birds in the sky screams on sopranos, ants crawl in majesty with this few words for answer.
“So much more than your thoughts can brood”
Then this wisdom is what I seek and search every day. For wisdom is king of all acquisition
Wouldn’t you rather sought for a king?
So king wisdom I call you. The crown, your authority, the world, even I choose to partake of you too.
(C) 2014, Akinbobola Akinyosoye.
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