Message To My Soulmate (Part 3) Poem by samson ogbeewi

It is said, 'Even Though I speak
with the tongues of men and of angels,
and have not Love,
I am become as sounding brass,
or a tinkling cymbal'

Yet, this love has made me sound louder
Than the Krakatoa volcanic eruption,
Uttering hot poetic lavas,
Consuming every soul
That has ever craved for love

My poor heart in fiery flames,
Burning for the want of you
In tears and weariness exclaims
Words comprehensible by few

And Like angry tortured slaves,
Howling for the freedom in view:
When love, as a worthy redeemer,
Breaks my bond and sets me free

Now I lay at the night of my loneliness
Hoping for a better morning dew
When I'll be awaken to your lovely smile
And my tortured heart is made a new