I am not resigned to the shutting of
windows nor to the absence of rainbow.
I am not declined nor alined to shove
'nto the time of chime nor mime of oboe.
I am the soft spring string that ring and sing
to the ears of the wall to hear endear.
I am the joy born 'n forlorn of mourning
like the rumbling scatters of humming cheer.
I am not the disrupt of erupting
boil in the warmth of ice chilling stream steams.
I am not the unsweet yet slow snail hymn
of sulky verses and stream screams of themes.
I am the stunning tempo of ugly
chime and prime of sublime rhyme in music.
I am the soften best art of smugly
morning like I'm nature. I am music.
Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem