Plundering... Poem by Robert Mutsaers

And then if I were the fog,
When, nobody asks me to obey,
For anybody bereaves the day

I recall:
'In his intellect,
installed emotions,
to enbrave commotions,
to rest for despair and alone.'

For when, you are the song,
And, everybody asks me to delay
So nobody enclaves dismay.

I befall:
'In her omniscient,
revealed emotions,
to engrave conniption,
and breast to inhere the forlorn.'

Nairobi,09 July,2013