Okunola Iyanuoluwa

a poignant bud in the nectars of one's life,
A bud filled with mystery,
like a dry fir.
A bud when fed;
 becomes a pie of goodness to a life,
How does a bud-
other withers?
What kills a bud and brings it back to life?
Only a Farmer-
In the gardens of love-
Can know how,
A bud cometh to be-
The waves of life-
Like a Tsunami-
Had dreaded a man's wit.
A bud;
that grows like a child,
And dies like an adult,
Weary of life.
One seeks love in a pure soul.
Not a damaged soul-
But Love itself-
Does not demand a soul;
Of its good or bad nature.
Demands persistence and strength,
For one to carry its,
supposed burden.
But Love-
Is neither a burden;
Or punishment,
For it offers;
 kindness and acceptance for those who open their hearts.

  • Author: Okunola Iyanuoluwa (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 11th, 2024 17:06
  • Category: Love
  • Views: 5
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