YOU JUDGE YOURSELF.

Old age, you come as a strict judge
To give the verdict you can't fudge.
You look at past events and deem
What was of value or brought harm.

You think of periods drifted fast.
How quickly, you will get aghast.
You think of actions or past norms
To give your verdict final forms.

This verdict either will give you
A hell or heaven in your view.
Heaven and hell start from the earth.
They grow as your flesh loses strength.

As your strict judge is your pure soul
Old age allows it to control.
At last, your flesh gets weak and dies
And your soul soars up and flies.

It gets the sole judge as it is
A part of God in paradise.
God gives the soul, but flesh has mind
When young, your mind can life decide.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE *******

I have no one to think of me;
A ******* none would see.
I'm thrown on my abject wheel-chair
With heart too void of cheer.

My years are running just like yours,
But no one turns his eyes.
For some respect my heart waits for,
But with no hope to hear.

Like you, l need a touch of love,
But no girl cares to give.
I am a ******* who should not
Have normal heart to beat.

Don't look with pity; l'm fed up
And always drink this cup.
Treat me as normal just for once;
That's what l really miss.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT WOULD YOU CHOOSE ?

Suppose you were in place of Christ, what would you do ?
Would you do what they want, and they would let you go,
Or would you lose your life on cross to gain the bliss
As death would come so soon and save your soul from miss ?

Jesus was sure of that as He was God in soul,
And He had such strong will and complete self control,
But He aspired to show all men the way to life
As if they choose the flesh, they will have endless grief.

That remorse comes to them from inside of their heart
As they betray the Lord Whose love's no end or start.
They gnash their teeth and cry and find no reason why
They've made a grave mistake they'll recall till they die.

The Lord will forgive them as He forgave His foes.
He loves His foes and friends as He them lives bestows.
How can the great God hate those whom He gave their lives ?
And He wants them to love as He Himself them loves.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHERE CAN HE FLEE ?

What can a man do when his hand is short,
And sees his little son look at a coat,
Worn by a cousin in expensive clothes
While his son looks at him with tears in eyes ?

He sees all this from far but dare not near
As his eyes also well with such a tear.
He stays afar and says, " l've done my best
To shun a scene like this and get depressed."

He works from morn to night and can't do more
And goes home just to hug his kids to core.
How can he hug them with a tear in eye,
And what will he retort if they ask why ?

Where will he go to flee from his own self ?
There is no place for him to flee from grief.
No refuge he can find from tortured mind,
Which keeps showing that scene to reprimand.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

REAL FRIENDSHIP

Friendship is a star that guides
Caravans with precious trades.
It moves through the sky with them
As with Magians it did roam.

Hard their way, but that star pleads
Brother moon, whose round face leads,
Skies of night not to be dark,
Stars to twinkle ways to mark.

Friends may come from far and near,
But Aleppo gives those dear,
Who get quickly into heart
Filling it with snug delight.

Friends give deep sighs of relief
That fills sad hearts with new life,
Which makes them to larks all ears,
And builds new life full of cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEN

MUSE AND RHYME

Muse is such a sweet soft girl
With blond hair that tends to hurl,
Veiling her face of great charm
Whose glance will your heart disarm.

Winged and able to fly fast,
Inside hearts her love's amassed.
She stays there and sings along
Till we write down her nice song.

Song is done, she flies to space.
Who can stay far from her face?
Once beheld, none can stay far
As it leaves the deepest scar.

We go soaring, seeking her,
With sight she could easily blur
As she knows her great effect
And hates her house to be packed.

Strict her father is in mind,
And he will her reprimand.
She escapes from him and comes
With intention for new rhymes.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE ****** JOURNEY

We said we have about a month
To have New Year's Eve and its hearth.
That day has come and it has passed
And buds of March are coming fast.

How much l fear you, New Year's Eve,
A cold reminder how years leave.
Though people with old age proceed,
They beat their drum and blow their reed.

Has madness touched them in the mind,
Or fate of man gets them quite blind?
I don't know why they dance and cheer
For getting older though one year.

How strange are sheep when they are led
To slaughterhouse on truck of dread.
They think they take them on a trip;
They don't know that their blood will drip.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH