A Hoary Leper Poem by Lihle Shezi

A hoary leper once dreamt;
Of a place where seraphs trumpet
Eternity in the horizons
Of the pentagrams of life
where the immortality of each
odysseus sun-rise begins,
where every dead poet sins
are forgiven,
where the sight of blind birds pins.
And the luxurious love is nolonger
a feeling but the mechanism of
a dead heart manufactoring hope.
And our Creator stands there
with a secretary's inkhorn at his
waist, to write down the names
of true poets.
Morbidity fortifies no child.
Mortalities? Nay, the misfortune is
to die young while you know how to attain eternal life.
But then, 'wisdom doesn't grow on trees, and understanding
is the virtue schools hid from us
all'.