I feel like I want to fly when am near him.
Like a tool that am cool with, my words cannot explain even if the bell rings.
It’s higher than the mountains
and admirable than the fountains.
It’s flowing slowly
and am beginning to become impatient.
Quotient again and I was not even good at math.
I agree to be it’s slave.
Don’t save, I know I’ll shave.
Am saying it’s high that at times I don’t respond to those “hi`s”
At first sight I sighed,
I knew but I pretended.
As days drew nigher I was in the trap.
I can’t withdraw from it the bond is so strong that I can`t fight even in nights.
Am mad but not mad it’s the madness in it that’s making me mad.
A tell of love by Philister Aketch