A LIFE WORTH LIVING

Many ask, ‘what is there to live for?’
But really, is there something worth living for?
We are on a quest here on earth
But inevitably, we’ll all end up in death;
So why seek vanity to satisfy our flesh?
For at the peril of the soul, pain is unleashed
And sometimes we grope in darkness to find a way
But only in Light can we see The Way
Which brings me back to my wonder
Is there something worth living for?
For I reckon if we take the lens off us,
Only then can we have a clear focus
Maybe we should hold only The Truth
For freedom lies in that route
It’s no bother that our lives should reflect our faiths
But I seek mine to show The Way, Life and Truth
There is a Life worth living for indeed
Then when we close our eyes and finally sleep
We will know that we lived lives
For What we believed in and others
That is a LIFE WORTH LIVING FOR….

© Chukwudi Isaac

Exhausted

Exhausted.

holding onto hope when it is far gone,

memories of a song with no melody,

forgotten chords but YET, it remains just a song.

A song of hope where love wins,

yet I am still supposed to be your strings,

and say yes, we will always win

as long as we choose to love,

but love is not enough.

 

Exhausted.

I cannot be your anchor

I cannot be the one you hold onto

when all you do is lie to yourself,

pretending as if those shadows that are turning into demons are not you.

 

Exhausted.

justifying each and every mistake

reflecting it back at me

when all I ever tried to do is move

move beyond all of that and progress.

 

Just,

Exhausted.

©DianaKolawole.Design

WHITE JASMINE

Warm sun brings you forth
Up! Up, from the earth
Shrouded in beauty
Is all my eyes see;
Pure white covers you
Like snow or as wool
Yes! You are pristine,
Pretty White Jasmine
Say, you’re so tender
Hmm, little wonder
Cupid wanted you;
Amongst his choice few
For your sweet fragrance
Takes me into trance
And I dream of love
Of olives and it’s grove;
Of rhythm and blues
As I sit and muse
Sweet smelling Jasmine
With fragrance lasting
Some ask what you mean
‘Gift from God’, you mean!
I love your aura
Dear Persian flower

© Chukwudi Isaac

Dear Book

I remembered when it was just us
When you and I painted pictures
You did the painting, and I the seeing
Seeing we both had each other in mind
Every stroke of the pen was new
Stories were told; them I barely knew
You smeared smiles that was familiar
Those I can and can’t remember
You made me smell the gentle breeze
And sail with you on ocean breeze
I could taste the grapes and cherries
And sing along the song that merries
Sometimes you made me cry
And ask why? O why?
Other times you kept me on suspense
Wondering when it will all make sense
Sometimes I marked you
So I could run back to you
For being with you made me stand out
And be the leader of the crowd
I hope others love you
As much as I do
For as I look at you on my shelf
With loving admiration and breath
Dear book, let others see you
The way I do…

© Chukwudi Isaac