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Nickson Magak Dec 2020
26th 05, 2018

Friendly hands hesitant greet
Silence communication scents tough times
The moment rearing descent secret
Transforming landscape blues
Emptying final stock in scarcity
Hope, enduring hostility
Feasting of remains of dead end
When nothing goes to waste.
Of beautiful harvest and tower of wealth,
Would want to fantasise
Yet harshest times on earth punishes
Hope looked by life in years.
Nickson Magak Dec 2020
In the name of that gratitude
The only thing I can offer is my rhymes
When I am undone by limitless altitude
Like a child, a hum childhood hymns
Gleaming the fire of desire in enormous solitude
Splendour that devour world’s faulty signs.

For some special quality;
Unknown to mine stage
Indeed, for full feel
Strengthens my weakened heart
And in our own iniquities
We surge to perfect love’s length.

A precious friend, found in life’s journey
Walk on the treacherous paths
Long curved on a wide expanse
Which now mastered as long lived before
Hopes high, sorrows swept two four.

Countless trophies of sweetened trials
That she stolen part of me
And the stolen heart greatly honoured
By the un-sinning owner
That her loves’ preciousness dine my table,
Beauteous ***** charms rare joy
That life’s intricacies gleam in dark rays

The secret to the passage
Where sorrow, amidst pain, rules no more
The strong relief, spring that bears ignominious pearl
To her, am honoured
To lodge this kindred delight.
(For "V")
Nickson Magak Feb 2020
Toiling in the tropical Sun
Strapped on her back is a young son.
Sparkling teeth trembles as she limps
Shining beneath dry cracked lips.

Her life a dream, covered in veil of guilt.
Not welcomed in her absent husband’s home
Rehema is enslaved, because Rehema spoke!
And a woman is not to speak
Her worth not cows and goats
Even Price of Gold is not  Rehema’s value.

Hold her hands and walk her
Hand in hand rediscovering the world
Rehema’s beauty lightens the word
The world is not rejected you,
Son’s father, a free man has
Delights in chasing harem of concubines

*** is pleasure that she dreads,
Herald from the chop, cut, slitted to shreds
She dwells in nostalgic agony,
Denied her rightful alimony.

Rehema is two decades older
Widowed at teenage, dwellings colder
Denied womanly pleasure
Because it’s a man’s will to leisure!

She Fathers’, mothers’ three kids
Beneath that loud silence of Rehema,
Dwells a crime of honour!
Out of her sorrow,  glimpse of good will emerges
She is worth a life.

— The End —