Rain

It will always come regularly
Anxiety & fear bringing all its disorderly
Sending minds sinking deep like anchors
And hearts into a place of rancour
Economies crashing like MMMs
Shorter mornings, Longer PMs
Success books now providing alternates
As we search for wealth secrets
Yet our Souls are still dry deserts
Aching with pain, looking for comforts
Even when prayers rise up like incense
And our expectations, filled with suspense
Yet the wait is just too long
Our faith might not be that strong
But then incense will becomes clouds
Roaring like lions making sounds so loud
Then It comes
Pouring down its blessings
Wiping off all our facings
The rain draining our Sorrows
Fill souls that have been hallow
Washing away all our pains
Making crazy minds, accurate and sane
Our prayers are never in vain
Because we are sure it will RAIN!

Uba Victor Isoje
© 2018

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Questions Crossed Out

My wailing,
What does it weigh,
Against the sighs of seven billion souls, each,
Digging wounds into my already shattered depths,

My breathing,
What does it matter,
When it’s lost in waves of first winds drawn and last gasps sown,
Lashing earth for eons,

My living,
Is it a rare gem or a speck of dust,
Amongst countless weddings, empires collapsing,
And the universe’s billionth galaxy collision,

The answer,
Is a death to cross these questions out,
The meaning of existence, hanging on a stake,
For my sake.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018