Write Me A Poem (VIII): Ruby

WRITE ME A POEM (VIII): RUBY

she calls me ruby,
like the fluid of life that run her veins,
she said I am precious stone
on which the foundation of her heart is laid

she calls me ruby,
the jewel that gunned her down,
drew her eyes, heart, to it's glistering goodness,
and pegged her to affections deep.
do you think that arrow is the shooter?
doth not the bow play a role assigned it by the arm that pulled orchestrated the shot?

she calls me ruby,
the hand that trained the bow to carve out a map to her heart,
the tomb raider that smashed her defense walls with words wrist from her marrows - every drop evapourates -
the jeweler who made a smuttier mesh of tingly symphonies echo in her ears.

she calls me ruby,
the fountain of love sprayed around the room,
creating a mosaic of retro blues,

but

her ruby follow the faint pathway of unsung songs,
contouring into a silhouette in a desert sun,
dancing the left-to-right wave of goodbyes,
up the heights, down the lows,
flash like lights, fading glow,
till she can't look anymore,
tears her eyes did blur

she called me ruby
but before she could glare into my own ruby red eyes,
she made me blue with constant nags

ediye mmi,

write me a poem about love on first goodbyes

#WriteMeAPoem
#Pengician #SSA

Comments

shy, a poem

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Dustbin And Drafts - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

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For Leah Shabiru - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 136: FOR LEAH SHABIRU I can't find the words right To describe Leah's plight. I hope this little piece of mine Awakens our voiceless unconcern. Does she feel giddy? Does she still cry? Does she look out the window and heave a sigh? How long shall this gravity Hold her down to these rascals? I know she kicks but in vain I know she whispers prayers to her God Or maybe she now doubts his existence. Does she wish her breathe be gone? But she's just a teenager Who dreamt of leaving her deadbeat town One day she went to chase dreams The next she was never found Sunrise and sunset have come and gone and Leah is still in the devil's lair. You and I, we eat, we sleep She's not our own, we care not a bit Until same fate cross our path Trample our wives And rip our hearts Only then shall we realize in Leah died our very soul. - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends

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