Eternities Yard

Into eternities yard, some wont go
in my path, all will tread
fear not today,
I'm always at a beckons call,
fear not tomorrow,
i will be waiting,
fear not yesterday,
i never look back,
fear not the end,
i am the end,
fear not the beginning,
i may not let it pass

into my yard, all will go
bordered by tears, a river of blood flows,
in my path they are no cries,
in my yard,
no angel lies

poem by Tinashe Severa
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Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution

Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow

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poem by Tinashe Severa
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Justice stands still

When justice stands still
only the fool hearted,
will contemplate pursuing even the most just of causes,
when justice stands still,
the brave only will seek retribution
for sins committed against them and their kinsman,
can any gleamse of sovereignty exist
where justice takes a tea break,
and when justice decides to stand still
will any sanity prevail,
where justice once stood still,
can any unity ever be restored

once upon a time the jews were slandered and abused
but they had the courage to stand up and refuse,
when justice stands still,
the supposed saviours become the enslavers,
who then will stand up to refuse for the people
when justice stands still,
the law makers become peace detractors,

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poem by Tinashe Severa
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The crowd in the street

They came out of their houses
screaming, whistling and jumping
most of the women wore only dirty blouses
but that couldnt stop them coming

they stopped at the end of the street
and said to one another in excited whispers
'i told that right here tonight they'd meet'
quite proud to be the worst rumour keepers

wife, husband and someone's lover
clawed away and cursed with no break
the wife fell, blood flowing from her like lava
but she raged on, till someone broke her neck

all assembled were untrained dramatists
they feigned horror and half shutr their eyes
a little boy shouted'what mighty fists'
a little girl fumed, but no one heard her cries

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poem by Tinashe Severa
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