Williamsji Maveli writes, Mother earth suffocates ....

Blessed thoughts in the crib repressed,
 Veracity of this time of yore regressed,
From saga of all lyrical belief neglected,
And nature is a wrinkled face rejected.
 
My lungs ache questing for a deep relief,
For an embrace of blissful touch in belief,
Breathe, fresh air, life never to go  for doze,
But it is far too late, refrain from all snooze. 

I am trapped under water, and I cannot observe,
Nor hear, nor speak, nor act, but surely reserve,
It is in any way, a reminder that I am still alive,
Days have been tearing for me to jump and dive.
 
Vision in target from all hazy streets of earth,
Seashores, village lakes in short-lived depth,
A legend of brave moves and splendour retreat,
Dwells only in all dirty debris left on the street.
 
They seek out a notion like a fixture of freedom,
Once the blossom taken, then a hated kingdom,
Submissive like a good follower, the flora bends,
Together, every stone’s heart scratch then grinds.

By

Williamsji Maveli