By
Ugwu Leonard Elvis
Echoes of our minds
No single cloud declouds the firmament,
No little frown crowns the sun,
Until series of voices herald the freezing breath,
Then thunder slams the nagging frost off a better day.
Each day does this uneven sound spank the burning casket,
Till we remember billion rains rusting our busty chick,
In sound of echoes and intriguing the dancing minds,
Little shall we buttress their franky mighty shaw.
Then the echoes in our minds shall rest to a restless wrestling wrestle,
Till the day I say, plot the glowing stem of the flowering pen,
Then shall they proclaim, for the echoes in our minds quiver the street, redress our stress and solitude our minds,
Yet billions of re-occurring sounds parade our being like a parading house fly on a delicious delicacy.
But today I cast my pen to the blabbing parrot layed to the instinctive being,
These corrosive sounds shall lay to rest,
Then shall you say, with pen comes human satisfaction, I shall stand to this!!!
Must!! For today that echoe shall be gathered to a sleeping crow.
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