Literature – (Lit-rate-you’re)

>> Lit
From the deepest masculine roar resounding from the podium
To the sweetest melody coming from the queen right on his right
The animated crowds that zealously keep their eager ear rightly open
With one accord, though silently in their now alright hearts, they say
It was lit. It was lit!
For, the valley, however dark
The mountain, however high
There are the birds, and however small or big
Fierce or friendly, they accordingly sing their songs in due time
The fierce lions will bow their brown fur
The friendly sheep scratch their white fur
With one accord, although diverse in their nature, they agree
It was lit. Lit, it was lit!

>> _rate
The astonished crowds turn their heads around, their souls wander
They think they are finally hearing the sounds from the heavens of wonder
Their minds perish into the podium where wonder ponds are nurtured
They cannot believe rhymes and tunes from the heavens can come just so naturally
Their faces stunned, their mouths agape, there, their reflections through each other
It is the reflections from their souls, because they realize they are one in nature
At a rate of knots, with one accord, though diverse they realize their true natural definition
They are all defined by the same, non-diverse, literary principle, and all bound by the same art
Although lost within the words, their souls are rated the most natural, pure, original and sane
For, the voice, however deep or sweet
The rhyme, however rhythmic or jumpy
Literature in poetry, rates our souls to a state perfect even without definition
She is first rate art! She first rates our souls!

>> _you’re
Individuals’ souls separately rolled back in time
They are taken aback when they realize what has truly brought them to this time
Unapologetic irresistible nostalgic waves drift them back to their diverse melancholies
Their pre-time situations so tragic, their hearts break at the sound of their diverse sad melodies
Struggling for strength they are drowning in shadows of their universes
All they want is just one breath above the surface of the waves that swallow them
They tend to forget even the waves speeding above them possess some poetry
Behold, whether above or beneath, you’re there to carry them to life
Life that never really has to matter, whether dark or bright
For, however the tribulation, you find and you’re found
However the jubilation, you find and you’re found
For to the rejoicing and to the perishing, there, you are
You are! And you are!
YOU’RE a LIT first RATE art!!!

Mongi C. Nkabindze