Not Lust I plead


Never to exist
Is For my soul,
To bleed an eternity

The rust of lust is a wheel
Playing a misty rain with a stick

Give me that, give me this
Is the voice that sullen a gift

Press me by the walls, and give me
A divine knock

Let the teeth find a belief
In the words of the left thief

Tear my garment
to the skin, i would realize
Not all nakedness is worth a sleep

I would be masked by
The beauty that lays beside
All I see in the garden of nature
I tend in


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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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