Noise from the Valley of Magic
- July 20, 2017
- by
Love,
You will never die on the lips of the young
You won't ache with greyness
You are not the euphoria that is weakened by age
But you are the loud noise from the valley of magic
That flaunt awhile then faint into nothing
Leaving only sores and smokes everywhere you've been
You are the lawn of grass breeding spikes in the soul
You are the chains constraining the heart with tears and thorns
If all they say about you are true
That you are that gift from the Majesty of heaven
Your are the angel brooding over a lost world
And all that say "I love you" are sincere
There will be no more broken hearts
In the corner of gloomy rooms
There won't be helpless men watching their bruises with sorrowful hearts
After the long dance in the dome of friendship
There won't be betrayals among those who once dine in your name
Flowers can spring from where the grasses once grow
Though the bleeding will heal when her well of tears are dry
It is the wickedness in the lie called love
That she will never forget
© Olatuja Oloyede
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