Flaunt no more your ‘weapons’
In them, my picky eyes takes no delight
Like a false advert plaguing clients with blights
They are just shiny roses amid deadly thorns
Woe-man, weep not if futility results from your frantic strides
in trapping my heart, for hand-in-hand with failure, love rides
Am not blind, am much aware of the eye signals
Am not deaf, my ears grasp the desperate pulses of your heart
Insensitivity, you say you hate in a man ‘abi’?
(Sighs) What of insincerity?
What of insecurity?
Of a truth, you deserve no heartache
No doubts! with me, that be your sourly fate
Rome, they say never become in a day
My heinous love ‘tools’? forged long ago, by a lady of flay
As speedy seconds transformed to wearied minutes
Lonely Minutes to frustrated hours
Cumbersome Hours to routine-ridden days
Love-hunting days to love-hoping weeks
Love-battered Weeks to recuperating months
Recuperating Months to vengeful years
In the eyes of woe-men I have caus’d hot streams to flow
Take heed Woe-man! Be no victim! Steer clear!
Drop your weapons and flaunt them no more! …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem