Where lies the end
Smoothly and roughly it flows
The end of which is bend
How vast the pain it glows
It's humbly aglow with joy
As the two embrace the novelty
What the world cannot destroy
Expressed in bed with rose of honesty
Phone becomes a handbag
Always a vogue for the neophyte
With less remorse for last card
And ever prepared for goodnight
How long can that last
After what becomes the next
The lady becomes a bush rat
Always in search for a smooth nest
Some ladies are left afloat
Timeless till old
But bewildered as goat
What a homeless as owl
Who then becomes a foam
As the muted ones are more silenced
And the pretty ones have now eloped
Beyond the ring now appears a fence
Annihilation of number
What a speedy deletion
Who can see beyond the matter
A recourse bemoaned amidst retention
Beyond the rosary bed
The vision is meant for future
He who grasps the blend
Is quick to make forfeiture
© Izunna I. Okafor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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