e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

My stall out prayers

The borough pit was once a hill
Until excavators sort out for meals.

The terrain had shades, cool and calm
Till the sprouted trees fell cursing harm.

The blues sky was high and beautiful
Till it got clogged and demystified too.

The lion lost hope of using its claws
Until the birds fell and began to crawl.

Most silent killers are opportunist
Stealing shines from the worlds greatest…

Most dreams do not turn out to be real
Simply because of the emotions we feel.

My dear, it is not that I can’t stoop so low
“Serious” is not how I phantom life to flow

My prayer is to evade hits, when valleys turn to hills
Smiling while sleeping, hoping the devil’s smell wakes me.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

1 Comment


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: