Mwewa Jeremiah Musonda

Mwewa Jeremiah Musonda Poems

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The Yore Of January The Sixth

In rile, my heart was held in chains
while resonance spoke to my fears
left on thoughts of crippled remains,
my eyes couldn't spare another tear.

As i sobbed on that drizzly afternoon
twas clear the night was a full moon.
To what happened, there was no reverse
nor a sign to decline my incense.

Time had gained a slow pace
and voices coldly grew numb,
voices of ideas became dumb
for in solemn i longed the day of grace.

I took solace in the guitar
and swung from poem to poem.
Betimes, i hopped for a shooting star
as the opt to moan was my anthem.

With a stare through the window
i never understood the lesson to know,
gathering the useful remnant
i felt like life's priority tenant.

Twas never a told myth
for purposed it was to happen
peradventure my lessons to sharpen.
Tis the yore of january the sixth.

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