Poetry, like Christianity,
is a calling a duty we
have to honour it is to
Be subservient and obedient
Towards the higher power.

You asked why poets
Attempt various endeavours
And hardly ever commit to any.
It is their duty to strike
beyond the horizons,to
infiltrate deeper than the surface.

It is their duty not to conform
To the status quo.

To find the underlying truth
And relay it like a baton.
A call of significance
Than fame, a call of
servitude rather than power,
It is a duty for the masses
Rather than self.

Like poetry, Christianity
is a pregnant woman.
Has to pay attention
to her diet, there are
People she can’t associate
Within this time span.
Whether she should run
Away from for the foetus
to mature into a breathing
Being.

Friendships reach expiry dates
Just as assignments have deadlines
Though some impacts are forgettable,
Yours go beyond and behind.
They were unlimited, limitless.

Your works were without borders.
I believe we will befriend again
In the next life but then remember
Heaven is for the timid like you.

Many are called but few are chosen.
Your Higher A1 chose you,
Gave you strength to choose
Your Lower A1 to hold hands with.

Concentration and quite time,
Relayed by you many times
Have done wonders for my
Troubled soul.

Too bad some friends we
Selectively choose to
know when we need prayers.
Too bad some friends we
Selectively remember to
Call when danger strikes.

Too bad some friends we
Hardly ever talk to
unless in emergency.
Pardon me, each
Calling has its gross
Pill to swallow.