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I wish my heart could walk
Albeit it talks.
My agony grows by
morning and noon . Besides who knows ?
The herb is late so slow.
Who knows , who will know?
Why I sleep as I walk!
No , why did you had to go?
My broken stature hangs on my face,
like a case without a trace to prove
her innoncess.
Bye bye my listener if you endevour to.
Bye bye my love if you loved too,
for now it’s too late ,and time is ill
for thee am drowning gradually , agony is
Partying my senses.

By Ssozi Izaty De writ.