On the road of appointment He trekked
While by the dusty roadside he sat and inquired
And upon knowledge of the passerby he cried
Sorrow, desire, hope and faith laden
A voice that refused rebuke
To cry louder
Summoned before His presence
He appealed for his sight
Neither gold nor silver
Determination and faith earned him divine healing
In one caring, merciful and forgiving
How long have my people cried
In near Hades Nigeria
Who listens? Who cares? To whom?
Save He above everyday.
(Saturday 8th December,2007,5.45pm)
Truly death is a beautiful thing looking at the nature of living kind though we all are scared of dying but it's a path we must all pass through, nice one Kingsley.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem of immense dimension, this is a masterpiece. As usual nicely penned.