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Age, Dreams, Love, Death

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETIbcEdyVfk


The sweet child, golden her smile
Death of innocence, led to her being
Love was had, made and shaped – furiously
Age was come, the world and the home – to enrich.

The sweet child, golden her smile
Cuddly and warm is she, ‘cept when called to dine
She would rather play, not away her dolls – file
Tantrums she is, tantrums she does, this sweet child of mine.

Age is catching up
Dreams are drying up
Love withers away
Death rides on the highway.

Dreams, the essence of all that is
A business to start, a sweet one to kiss
If killed, sharp is the cobra’s hiss
The daring shoot the star, can’t – the moon – miss.

The infant wonders, clear eyes wanders
Age trickles, drips and drops to the sea
There is still no dreaming of what could be
Love, Death – each Being flounders.

Age is catching up
Dreams are drying up
Love withers away
Death rides on the highway.

Love, some claim He and She - The First
Words, deeds, faith, trust – on Them sticks fast
The universe - all Beauty, some Beast - on Their image cast
Rhythm - floating downhill; hands, eyes, lips locked – Love’s dust.

The teen, writes rebellion to the Nation
Zeitgeist – flowers, pot – shaky, firm, the foundation
Before and before, after and after – constant, the fashion
There is song, there is dance, a hint of blues – three is so much more.

Age is catching up
Dreams are drying up
Love withers away
Death rides on the highway.

Age – many the names – Father Sun, Mother Moon
Time is, time was, time will be – easy the tune
Kingdoms and empires, the everyday – all crumble away
Bitter, sad, the delusional sweet – there is always the bye.

Father forgets the song in the day – many his responsibilities
Mother forgets the dance in the night – used up, all her faculties
Dreams dry up, love withers away – entropy – when disused, such abilities
Age catches up, death rides the highway – hospital, morgue – twin facilities.

Age is catching up
Dreams are drying up
Love withers away
Death rides on the highway.

Death is first and last – present every which way
Dreams taste death, love too, age - a caustic reminder
Death creeps, crawls, swims, sleeps – the net cast for the fly
Our stories we tell, of Overcome, yet uncollected – fees for The Finder.

A jolly fellow, Grandpa, we remember his many loves
A fair one, Grandma, in her many children, still she lives
Sometimes, they die young – so, we sing of what could have been
Greedy is the earth – she swallows all – the Saint and those bound in Sin.

Age is catching up
Dreams are drying up
Love withers away
Death rides on the highway.

 

 
Buy my anthology at: https://nuriakenya.com/product/a-funeral-dress-for-nyasuguta-by-mark-mwangi/

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