Blessing Anastasia Abaka
Lost but not love, yet i sank deeper.
Blind and frustrated, yet i move slumber,
Toward d darkest sea of unconscious bleeding.
I sat on d Zulu of pouring
I was found going gaga of unspoken mystery.
Chanting with my cold voice,
The deadly hymn of love.
I'll never echo the rhymes of loving,
cos it never compatible for a single heart.
It's really nuisance for falling in it,
So unfair for a golden heart.
It's stupid, but crazy.
Not sweet, but tasteless.
Till the dawn turned into night,
And rain turned into blood.
It mean nothing at all,
Nothing at all to the heart slotter.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Heart Slotter by Blessing Anastasia Abaka )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(18 November 1939)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Gerard Manley Hopkins
(28 July 1844 – 8 June 1889)
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