Like always, when it’s an unusual juncture to be told
There appears a story from the county inside my head
While the skies of Auckland are in celebrations,
Embraced to be new year is the bride.
People say I write of my inferiority complex
But denials alas! ‘have a deceptive load that murders
I had been underprivileged of my share of joy, of happiness;
But no, the One is not to be blamed, my Karma instead is.
I must say I am horrified, terribly imbalanced
But I don’t have complains from life
It gives you beautiful blossoming mornings of love;
And brewed nights under the moon, besides the fire!
While there are vague winters coming,
And perilous winds are about to blow;
You ought to preserve food grains in the fortress
‘because there is no point confessing to the Bishop
For death of your loved ones!
And while I write poems I tell you I pray
I talk to Him;
And I lack words to hid myself from the fright I’m suffering
Too, I never considered me alone on any voyage
That my boat could go amiss but it never went,
And I leave me all on Him.