The thought of Nothingness

The thought of nothingness
Moved me to sit in the street
With the men that beg
alms in gold and silver ring

I seek to be in their shadows
Where we’d never be known
And our cry would be empty
And free

Let me be, crowned with their
garments and elegant speech
Their walk and bed
I want to find my rest
When night grant a sleep
With a coin to support our dreams

share me their jokes
meal and morning prayers
Kiss and warm feel

Let our heart moan
With blessings from the sun
And our palms dry
with the wind that carry
our birth of a new beginning

Tell the king I live
With the prince of the street
And I beg to be here
Till I part with earth and fold
With the beggar’s mint


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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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