Israel Ebiti

Tears and rain,
can you tell the difference between hurt and pain?
Like a man sobbing in the rain
he alone knws the measure of his pain.
...

A saint although they say he was
who died all for love's sake;
yet not compared to the death on the cross,
for naught but death to take.
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Feathers have never been softer;
the sun had never been brighter;
the peacock's feathers elude beauty
at the sight of my dear affy
.
...

On that day the west shall
beckon on the sun to
come home, for long
it has not known thd orange visage.
...

Dust risen with the wind plays with the eyes;
with each strike comes a rise,
and then the incessant babblings of the wind;
unkind and very hesitatnt to rescind
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Colours of blue, red, orange and violet,
yellow, pink and dark a bit,
at the dawn of dusk a new experince is met,
in our everyday familiar sunset.
...

Beauty lies within
in our hearts
strays can't help but lurk.
Beauty is in the radiance of your smile
...

I look in the mirror and i see someone
with a face like mine but a long one
my heart bleeds and it drips from my chest
my scars are explicit like an ornamental crest
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What love surpasseth yours
all hearts melt when ur glory pours.
your spirit, on those that believe descends
and your love on the broken hearts abundantly transcends.
...

These numbers i know are of colour green
the digits there-in i have not seen.
I did shout green!
Not knowing what it'll mean
...

I hope to be that gentle bird that soars all oer the sky
and when i stop longing for a drink i hope you hear my cry.
This word i bring to soothe your heart
his utterings are true,
...

The fronds rattle their blades as the wind strolls leisurely by.I shelter in the shades where naught but hope lie.My feet taste the sweetness of service bound handsfrom treading paths of darkness in strange and distant lands.My thirst is quenched, my body cleansed, my bowels were moved for this; my body then oiled and scented with myrrh only for kings.'i love you'words that pierced my soul bringing me to my knees'take me back.i'm sorry Lord, please accept my pleas'.
...

Her feet wore beads of several fleets,
the dewed grass aided a soft feel for her feet.
Lovely ankara.
She bare the beasts and birds of the air.
...

In time we stitch to save but nine;
torn, loose fabric with needles fine.
Stitching yours, stitching mine;
making a fort these dreams of mine.
...