WINd

Wind by Olu Ajoba.

The wind by the lake is icy. 

The wind in the streets is forever harsh. 

The wind by the gravesite hits differently; cold, quiet, haunting with memories of our loved ones. 

The wind of love raises questions; pressure, doubts, unuttered words, perhaps celebrations. 

The wind with storm changes all a man has in heart, makes one whisper; this too shall pass.

 The wind of purpose tosses you around; to be or not to be, from the womb i knew thee, what exactly shall one believe? 

The wind unknown, it has fear untold, no name, no grave, no road, making your mortal. 

Oh ye, thou hath knoweth of it. It maketh thou walk through the empty streets where heavy wind bloweth thee; your eyes stay shut, oh ye thee harsh wind.

Far goesth thee, way towards the lake, as though it were the end of the world, you freeze forgetting love, thou forget to live.

Ye thinketh of they who left, this wind of love, it has no boundaries, blowing all thou consist of.

Oh ye, who hath speaketh from afar, a voice you cannot hear, it talks about thy fear, what shall i become in days to come?

Oh ye, have thou liveth life enough!!!

The thoughts, the heavy thoughts of death, it comes to you; uninvited.

Enough, you have to decide to walk on water, should you sink ? Better make a comeback.

Oh ye wind, I speaketh to thee, with thus fierce.

This wind, it needs to be silenced.

Yet, you hear the noises, here comes the storm. 

What do you do when life no longer understands you?

When reality don't believe in your greatness?

Thine shall look for the father.

At the cross, his hands you shall take.

For with him, the chords will make a chorus.

What then shall we say to suicidal thoughts? Not today.

This wind will no longer prevail, when the father's feet you shall sit, his hands; you shall take.

If thou art weary, come get rest.

Tell this wind, not today.

Fall in the father's way, there is comeback that silence curiousity.

Oh ye thee, come find the way.