Wiliword _
@emmanueladuwilson510594
1 year ago

We host ordeals
and conceal their edginess.
We nurse scars,
wrap bandages around our hearts—
to heal,
smell their perfect aromas, alone.
There, our eyes are like sunken boreholes storing fresh mighty waters.
And when they begin to pour down, they come ceaselessly;
from calabash to bucket-full and to outflowing territories.
Our tears turn into stones and no one sees:
we burry them.
Each day has its own sobs.
Behind the veil, there is wholeness of griefs—
Our angelic eyes that seem glowing and perfect are red and puffy
Behind the veil, there are teeth that are gnashing.
There is a always a war we wage behind the veil.

~ Wiliword

#Poetry

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@emmanueladuwilson510594 @esthersokomba371406