Thoughts like a cry you hear at night, so clear,
The knowledge of me is giving me fear…
Well, I’ll keep displaying my teeth all day long.
Cry at night by the candles, smile at morn with the new sun:
Slowly I’m turning into a stained, glass masquerade.
Is there anyone here ready to kiss my lips?
Is there anyone who will throw his weight behind me?
I may seem unruffled and sweet,
Yet, I’m unknowingly, running miles in the wrong direction,
Moving close to a bonfire and expecting not to sweat.
I was walking my mind’s funeral till His voice resurrected me…
“My thoughts for you are of peace, not of evil
to give you an expected end.”
So, I bought his thought,
…That I might live like Him.
Written by: Adesiyan Adeyemi Favour
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.