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When new olive tree blossoms, all conflicts will end,
showing the angels of all peace creations to descend,
This fruit garden of you and me, where our childhood
dreams flourished under the shade of that tree stood,
Playing all the child games of love, hatred and despair,
I held his wounded body with much more care,
In the shades and shadows of the big orange-grove,
You and me, hugging together our love grew to prove,
We are one, in life, will never ever to depart,
Among the thorns, hills, oasis of this desert,
Although I was not dead, the other fatal day,
On my chest, I sadly placed a tombstone today,
During that night of my loved friend’s death,
No clouds, no blue skies, no stars to talk with,
My tears rushed down like a flood on a hill,
The heart dried, eyes blind, it’s all your will.
With all anthems of life now singing in love,
bringing peace, accord and bliss from heaven above.
All of new life now bearing in minds the truth;
it’s the heart of desire which will give a rebirth.
By
Williamsji Maveli
lullaby raindrops*
softly fell on the tin roof
their pitter patter
sent one off to deep repose
*hushed of speechless embrace
Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my word,
so clear and legible on the page
but now the lines are blurred.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my dreams,
but the fantasy that we had woven
was tearing at the seams.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my trust,
but the knives we held into our backs
were begging us to ******.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my chain,
but the bonds have since come apart
left rusting in the rain;

and even though we're broken
I'd still go back to the start,
when before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my heart.
Don't speak the truth―
loudly. Bipeds
are listening.

I will not blame
any one ever,
for my poems.

I must invoke
Buddha, if he
was an avatar.

Rage again for
the dying sun. Night
was very cruel.
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