Holy creatures
are bound by forces of your solemn whispers
to linger within you personal features.
The locks on your hair are fragments and blisters
of divinity. Stars of high society hide in your hair,
flair intelligence when you open your mouth appears.
**
Drips of wisdom fall from your lips, Peeps
grip to your words, because they are the hips
of the universe. You are the sacred verse
that an athiest reads and whips.
Seeds are weak, you are the strongest, planted by the sun that sleeps
on your chest.
Everyone longs to sip and drink
from your words first, to be blessed eternally.
Equivalent to an earth quake, my soul shakes
in acknowledgement of your superiority.
My sixth sense awakens and is only moved by you.
Whence you came from no one knows,
but only experiences glows that have your face
as the stimulant behind their flames.
**
Pain brings sorrow in a person's life,
but yours I endure with a smile on my face.
It's as though we have a hidden connection
and yet we never introduced formally,
or even met naturally.
Every time I come into your presence
I suddenly become grabbed by your mystical essence.
I know not your name
but I know that I know that I am in flames
with your spirit.
I never invited it nor invoked it, it just invaded me
and put me in a spiritual asylum.
And now all I can do is endure its captivity that affectionately
censures my inner being.
**
Surely this is how you came to me
and I let you in without any fears, wholeheartedly.
You are to me what the sky is to the clouds.
©Vincent Mbatha - 
