Poem: The Wounded Apple

THE WOUNDED APPLE

My Heart sojourn in an excruciating bitterness
Tears of blood flows from my splited heart;
As thy pierc’d through it without a cause.
The sunrise had splited up the cozy atmosphere:
Leaving the layman with a wounded sore.

The pain is deep to my heart;which is incurable.
I feel no sensation;not until thy paved way:
To my bewilderment for passion.
Thou promulgate in me the perception of a heart strings,
In thy concern’d and affectionate sensation.
Oh! I’m enchanted by thy magnificent beauty;
And thy indespensable traits of wisdom:
As Of Sepent!
Not until thy abnegate my consent
Now,I realise it:being an illusion.
My teeth becomes rotten abruptly
And my tireless deeds went futile:
And so thy showeth animosity to my personality;
And there comes my passion fading:
Like a fluttering kite!
The breeze had blown;I’ve seen the penguil’s anus
The pitcher is broken;the water in there in splatter’d.
The Gear of thy estranglement:
Made an execrable omen.
The gourd shall dictate the fastening of the the rope.
Thy Angel gave thee a parcel:thy accede not;
Not until thy fall into thy archenemy’s hand;
And left with an unheal sore.
Alas! My heart assembled as a rocky stone
And derail my passion for thee.
Now,my heart bubbles on a clear focus,
In the voyage of a Great mission:
No tempest can cause my heartbreak!

WRITTEN BY OSHINUBI D.TAIWO (PROF.)

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