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WINSALA MUSES POETIC JUSTICE

Winsala Muses Limited

WINSALA MUSES POETIC JUSTICE

Winsala Muses Limited


Subject: Pastor’s appreciation day

A spoken words poetry by
Josh wealth Pampam 

He Cares.

When life seems, to leave me sad,
And every little thing seems to go bad.
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

When I might stumble and nearly fall,
And when I need help and fail to call.
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

When Satan comes, tempt me sore,
And it seems, I can take no more.
I have someone who really show,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

When I became weak and ready to quit,
And other things, look good, I must admit.

I have someone who really show,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

There’s always things to bring me down,
And I could always be seen with a frown.
But, I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

When life snatched away my belongings,
And left me lost behind the scenes;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes my pastor knows.

 

When I walk through the orchestrated fire,
Burning my faith, burning my desire;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes! My pastor knows.

 

Those times my flaws asked for sacrifice,
I couldn’t afford to pay its price;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes! my pastor knows.

 

Whenever my flesh looks around for food,
Always get in a mess, I look like a fool;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes! my pastor knows.

 

There are times my eyes could not rest,
Swimming in a river flowing down to my chest;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes! my pastor knows.

 

When friends left me dumbfounded,
All because I’m broke and stranded;
I have someone who really shows,
He cares, yes! My pastor knows.

 

Sometimes I came to Church,
With stack of sorrow to flush;
I have someone who really show,
He cares, yes! My pastor knows.

 

On my road, I encounter failure,
With no one to run to for favor;
I have someone who really show,
He cares, yes! my pastor knows.

 

Brethren, I urge you, if you want to grow,
Come into the path that his anointing flow;
Then, in your storm he will surely show,
Coz he cares, yes! My pastor truly know.

Grace Pen ®


 “I’LL WAIT FOR YOU”

 

When mama’s angry palm hugged my face in hot rebuke,
for you I took it,
all of it,
remember those days when you used to hold my hands,
when we tried to get glimpse of how our lips tasted,
and feel how premarital apples felt,
all to no avail,
maybe because we were meant to be,
now I can see,
I can see you laughing in another’s arms,
as though the world ended within them,
heard he’s gat six packs,
I’m kind of jealous though,
maybe I went for too long,
but I was still here watching over you,
keeping my heart safe from flashy fingers,
In the meantime,
I’ll find comfort in my haven,
hoping though not wishing you heart gets broken,
just know Arike,
if he sails away like lovers do,
I’ll be here waiting with a brand new jar to keep your heart safe.

 

Olumide oripinye (Tzeblon)


Coronavirus

_By: Busy Brain_

The wind blows from China
and its scent gets to Nigeria
It travels faster like a missile
To send carriers to an exile.

 

Ebola came, we heard of it
Swiftly, the scientists managed it
How do we find the egress to corona?
A pandemic virus from China.

 

Could this be the harvest of sin
of innocent killings and Bloody scenes
No, this is a global crisis
mount on hazy genesis.

 

Myriad tested with positive status
Many lost their lives to the sting of corona virus
Dear God, save the world and our players
Corona Virus requires serious prayer.

 

#DearGod
#SavetheWorld
#SaveAfrica
#SaveNigeria
#Saveourplayers
🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾


 JEREMIAD “WELCOME HOME”

 

Friends and family will cry when through that gate he passed,
oblivious brain he carried about,
minding only this smoky stick,
even these men in black,
who cause his tip toeing legs into a free range,
gave a warning,
a warning for their brothers,
telling him he is putting a scissors to his thin throat,
it is now a celestial perfume,
a perfume for the likes of his,
giving the audience an irrevocable murmur,
“Mtcheww”,
Knock at the gate,
Oh young old body,
if only you can hear the these black myriads echo,
” welcome home to a warm death”.

Olumide oripinye (Tzeblon).

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