The Dead Rain of Love!

The sweeping rain
Beats the bleeding sheep
Lost in the thickest forest
Finding its way in the present dark

With the calling voice
Shaking with the hottest fingers
Waiting for the softest shelter
To grab the loneliest night

The flooded ground
Running with the ‘foamiest’ tears
Makes present the shaded times
In the sands of the past times figs

The claps of the stormy storm
Beats the broken bones
in the inner part of the ‘muddiest’ earth
Where it finds no prettiest voice

Lo! Lies the broken heart
Beaten by the deadliest rain
In the middle of the loneliest night



About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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