Warrith Olawale Poems

The sunset began before my eyes,
Angels sinking their heads in soulful cries.
The soldier's thumping footfalls fade away
The oldman now drags his atrophied feet about all day.
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Why call it love and sing about
If it's only in the summer, it sprouts?
Why do we deceive ourselves at pleasure
That there's no winter with censure?
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</>We've been blind; we've been blind.
We've walked in the shadows of the night,
Where nothing saw us; we saw nothing
We've been blind.
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FAIR OR NOT?
I'd like to say life is fair - - but it isn't.
I'd like to say we'll all have bread-
For breakfast - - but fate shakes its head.
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Planet Earth, wounded son of blissful birth
I miss your thrilling dance, your sunny days
Where are they, the beautiful flowers of mirth?
Only faded forests, I see, only the sick cattle that graze.
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The cold dead wind saunters in this bleak land
Where i dwell breathing inert air
Ears-fed by the tremulous voices of the dead, their tremulous hands
In gloves of numbness serene with the soil's care
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The melody of my heart, the music of my soul
Breath the rhythm of whimpers,
The whimpers of my crude blood whose tears wail.
I am as giant, yes i know i am a giant
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In an alien space, miles away from home,
Searching for a place where the land is loam.
Wandering high and low like tide in the sea,
Searching for leaves of the golden tree.
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That mother's fears, that child's tears
Live amid those crops that no longer sprout.
Here prevails dwarfism, the product of prolonged drought
Drought on land, drought in the sea, drought everywhere
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After flipping through pages of nightly oblivion,
Hours of the day, like musical notes, play on.
I hear your call, your summons causing dread,
I hear you, tremulous voices of the dead.
...