The terror that flies by night
At midnight
When weak bodies sleep
Sleep deep
Tared sowed
Hailing ailments projected
And dearly destinies exchanged for dires
Even joy turned into morning mourning rhymes.
Yes, you can be oblivious of this
Yet be a victim of this
Like wrestlers, we must wrestle with rulers
Of darkness through midnight prayers.
Blossomuyi writes.
blossomuyi poems 
Leave a comment