My hope
I make roads yet barely I get by
With virtually no shoes or strength to call mine
Nor a stomach with anything edible to combine
Steep yes but yet
Still I Hope
For better days with the substance of my chest
When I drink wine till day turns to night
Never ceasing my fires till the blessed call me best
Still I hope
As I Wait tirelessly for the salt of my sweat to put me to the nigh
Of high places owned by the gods
And bright daisies covered by their might
I ignore laws yes, yet still I swing high
Waiting for the day which rises and sets with light
I refuse to cease till this is realised
Meeting for the first time
The greatness for which I was designed
Someday with no shame in my veins
I will get to the destiny of this road and its tedious ways
The gods must observe and think of the unsaid
For they might awake when it is late and it all will have phased
a nice poem Vuyani, hope to read poems written by u brother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a great poem penned by a great poet Vuyani! Allow me to add you to my friends list please.