The conquerer
Love the sunshine that tears through my thick grey clouds to the core of my soul you rush with your warm embrace , love the silver lining that I
Wish upon at the midst of hail and winds pounding me down, bruised wet and defeated I seem but love
Reaches forth with its relentless powerful graceful touch, taking hold of me, uplifting and restoring me oh love through the
Clouds you come like a rider on his chariot charging at his enemies destruction will lace its path love the eternal warrior love the
Great take hold of me now in your warm bosom nurturing and relentless love take hold
Africa
Africa my beautiful princess why do you cry,
Left with the legacy of illegitimate children that you know father
Hate, greed and poverty their names the spawn of the rapist that ravaged you for so many centuries
Bleeding you dry my Nubian queen why do you cry? Like Cain and Abel the blood of innocents cry out to deaf ears
They faces filled with disgust and contempt a harlot they label you? Your children left with tarnished dreams that’s out of touch
With reality, the scars of your ordeal so evident on their faces cold, hungry stares as your oppressors sit around their warm fireplaces with cheeks glowing and gaily laughing living of the fat of your land oh Africa why do you cry conflicted and afflicted as your torn garment still a reminder of your ordeal
Love stained
Love never dies, but the heart withers away without a home
Love needlessly wonders around in your soul seeking a place to reside the unfailing
Hope of a restored heart, Love now the derelict that was once clad in garments of unspeakable beauty the warmth
That once governed this thing called love now trampled like a rose that is stepped on the beauty violated
No longer treasured, revered, but still this thing called love still holds on unfailingly clinging to the very fiber of our beings hopes
Of restoration to its former glory oh how we need it, however the mere sight turns our stomach the deceit that lies within the façade that we thought to be love, invoking deceit, shame, hurt broken promises how we vehemently denied all the signs of what was to be the sweet bitter tears that was spilled over this thing called love, oh how love longs for a restored heart.
