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Showing posts from May, 2014

The Masked

The true monsters are not the tough -
talking, gun-totting, drug-dazed lunatics
who foul the air in unworthy existence;the true monsters are those , who out
of the abysmal depth of their baneful hearts, the demons are spawned;the true monster will talk sense
when need be, empathise when need be,
join a crusade when need be;the true monster's mask is honorable, his embrace is warm, but his gift to the bereaved does not measure to the sacrifices to his demons

Wasted, Not Rested

Vain pleas, rended homes,
Mangled bodies, up in flames!
Wasted fleshes, unrested souls.Vacant faces, grief-stricken faces,
We look on: swiftly ended races!
Lives like ours, hours before.Gleeful, the monster bays,
Dares justice to raise its tail
Dares justice to raise its tailJude Ifeme

The Rain

Image
It pours on the roof of the house,
His heart pounds on the roof of my mine,
He'd flinch at every lightening and storm;
It's OK, I'd whisper, It's just another rain. As a child I'd beat every storm home;
See the apocalypse in every dark cloud,
No one dare sent me out when it rained
Or whenever its promise laddened the sky.Of all the traits I share with my son,
This would be one I'd rather take away.
Though my ombrophobia is long gone,
His has just begun.Jude IfemePic source: photobucket.com