Broken Mirror

I’m the supposed image of this cool King
Whose words are life eternal

Whose actions are as perfect as the cry of a newborn
Whose plans the whole universe reflect like the moon
Bringing us the afterthoughts of the sun at night.

I’m the supposed life He gave
The assurance that makes men brave
This eyes that look beyond the broken walls of your heart
The perfect stitchery that makes you new

But I fall short like shards of a mirror
I could barely survive the heat of this oven called living
Yes! I crafted my definition of living
Wrapped my gaze on the things I could see outside him
And I became a dead story waiting for his resurrection.

Symolean
(c) 2021

TALES

Tales,
Story!..story
By the hitting
Of the night’ light
On the sleeping-
Untroubled soil,
An assurance for another day,

Speaking
Of the hope
Of course unconcealed,
The elders’ failed,
god we call-falls on its slippery heels,
Codeines on a sleepy pills,
Given to these squanders
I mean-the poliTRICKians,
Paying you for our lives,
Edges up in the bigger-bitter collar
Which soon be tears-sucked,
We drink not
Water but crude oil
As species yet discovered,
Circumstance you wrought on us,

Though our waters contaminated,
We choose not to be
In all these,
Leaders of morrow
We live in are made!

Thank you!
Yours faithfully,
Tunde Michael

TM Sungs
©2019

Faith Works

Faith is like cannabis
It infects your soul and you start behaving like one bitten by rabbis
Housing dog.
Faith clears all the fog
That cloaks your hope, dreams, aspirations
It pierces your palms as one awaiting crucifixion
Yet full of assurance that the grave is a testament
To the throne set above the firmaments.
Faith is vision,
A propaganda jingle sounded to fulfill a mission
Faith can be void of reasoning
But a refined product of trusting
The one that really cuts the shot

Simeon Chidi
© 2019