The Unknown Mastery Of A Child Poem by Obasi Okoro Stephen

Tender god in harmless flesh of a true glory,
is just what thou art, in a mystical environ of creation.
My tongue wail for nothing to a mere hearing as gory,
but thy cry is a calling for food, and when thou knoweth kicked off with motion.
This is truth about me and my age in innocent.
My prayer may just be a motionless breath but it is to thy Maker
A tremendous force of supernatural force with full sent.
We open doors of your unknown glory yet take no precious metal.

Our sweet wonders of being born naked, is that the garden of Eden
has not being concede from thy love of the great Artist.
Painful birth of our mothers do we beautify with sweet gladness,
Those of proud beings, we lock the gate to the next child in list.

We are the visions of the world, nothing is beyond us.
The dead we can feel and see as the living feel their cause,
beauty and witty are thy maker's glory to us to the world.
Mark my words not as a gibberish child nor sick in the ward,
but as great logic and answer to see the UNSEEN truth,
truth that lie beyond your feet to your own strength.

We are very soft in destiny and changeable in fate,
A good name is better than precious stone metals from deep slate,
for we blend and work in the rhymes of the world's mysteries.
Thou art free flowing choices of people but strong memories,
to make an alluring destiny and not sleep on predestiny.
we are wise in the face of blasphemy as we keep shot as knee...

We are the Leaders of your Morrows
We are Children of the World and not of sorrows...