Our Deeds Poem by Adeosun Olamide

Our Deeds



Here stand I under disquieted skies unheard
Stirred slowly by cries of her thundering doom
Abloom by fading thought of days of yore
Nor thoughtless of pending days of sorrow avow

How quickly seeds of doubt sprout
Without route consuming all in path
Hath I the forest not made in scraps
Perhaps together we will hunt in the brow

Now flows a babbling brook in sight
Dight with unending flows of memories
Buries of indispensable hands
And gore of a violent pour

For learned have we not from our earning
Returning daily to ire nature

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