Sunday, 25 December 2016

When I Would Be Old

When I Would be Old

When I would be old, with those feeble hands,
The stammering words and the wrinkled bark
Do I would have a  hand, to go to the final destination,
Or I would be alone, with only my determination.

When my legs would, not go further,
When I would be, bent on my back,
And can't stand straight longer,
Do I would have a stick,
That would stick to me,
And Let me stay, as I want to be.

When youth have fallen from me,
Like the leaves that fall from tree,
When I would become a barren land,
Waiting for the last rain, to fall free,
Do I would have a rainbow to see
That would take me to the last dream.

When my muscles would become loose
And sight would faint like foggy luce,
When my skin would be shivering,
And my thoughts would be static,
Do I would have eyes of my own,
That would make me watch the last scene.

When  I would be old,
And my every belonging also,
When not all that stayed with me,
Will  exist certainly for any longer,
Do,  I would have any companion,
To go with me, by the unknown way to unknown allocation.

Written by
Ifa Agnes

Thursday, 1 December 2016


Words can became arrow,
And would go apart,
Words can be breeze,
And blossom your heart.

Words can be gale of demon,
And can rend your innocent world,
Words can be fortune of rain,
And can be spring for droughted hurled.

Words can be auspicious blast
And can be greenery of optimism,
Words can be evil flood that last,
And can sink you in pessimism.

So, choice is much yours,
Of bitter or fruity tongue,
You want to be amicable person,
Either a nightmare for everyone.

Written by
Ifa Agnes