Embattled by the choices I make everyday,
Oppositions and confrontations may bloom in my way;
The building blocks of confusion, anarchy and doom…
Where then is my sword?
That two edged sword which
Slices through even the hardest granite.
Chances are,
That I may have left the sword in my sheath.
Yet, proceed I for war?
The battle line is drawn.
Why does peace follow the wake of bloodshed?
T’must be the same reason that every dark night
Always leads to a fresh morn.’
Choices maybe tough, but the truth is sure.
©Uche (2002)
No comments:
Post a Comment