1
Your dream dies before you think it
Your hope lies recumbent as the refrain barely begins
You get blind when the light is to be your friend
Happiness in a room beckons on you
But it’s the abstract stupid species
May happiness never be blissful
You’ll kill dejection even if you be a prisoner
Attitude enslaves you your spouse
Your thought sights it an enemy
Your tears strips you of bliss
Your cheeks shall testify for history
And in dust utopia is vanquished.
2
The seven stars of bliss be my chain
My reasons free to childlikeness
It’s not a world where food suffices
It’s not a world I count my fingers
Not the clouds of turpitude being my rival
But metaphysics my only usher
The science of nature my chaperone
The law of exercise that precursor, my espionage
Solitude the only friend I have on earth
Look me on that path the loner never lonely
If I became formidable, he instinct of mating
Shall I give euthanasia.
If grace is to be approached, escutcheon calls
Euphony of the symphony the apparel of angels
And eschatology the scale
I feel maddened by this idiotic exercise
I no longer dream ‘cause they’re ineffective
Born again on workaholism just thinking
My chest dies of heart attack
My brains perceives every thing the nose can
I lay on the sofa till the morrow dawn
You pronounce it serenity
You define it meticulousness
The interim where interludes occur
You killed the low spirit, but the sun
The colourless sun acts as de ja vu
The cobwebs in your head makes busy again
You’ll recall your mien on the altar of banishment
On the mien of strangers ‘cause your mind paints
You want dream, heroism, to defend the casualties
Isn’t it just a missile that divides necks
An iroko tree couldn’t have been felled
You jump the drainage when those who sever tread
Infirmities upon your soul, kneel to supplicate
Dear lord, your eyes never slumber ‘cause
Nightmares of your deeds spank conscience
3
Flaccid of dehydrated throat, head
The tongue evades the salty liquid
Which travels from the eyes enticing the
You could be a gladiator but you’ve honour
You could look like the slave but you’re the warrior
Effort of your heart a cistern that teaches you
Time is troublesome to the pendulum
You no longer hear its sound like the belfry
But genuflect, gazing the sky like one intoxicated by lust
Let the earth know this atmosphere of pride
Let the earth reveal this natural ninth cloud
Earth, your contortion is ironic
Tell them this age is the first generation
Tell them thinkers have their interludes
Thinkers, you recall that room you commune with me
4
You think of honour, the other side of dust
You think of spirits, their sonority and mellifluous strain
You think of perfection which makes man utopic
And you think of journey which only suicide
Never makes oblivion and you become the cruet
And your lip caressing liturgies
The audience hears you singing with emotion
Emotions are respects for memories
And you lay down still insinuating the coffin
You see meadow with awesome greens
You se those you ask to await you
You have itched to meet spirit guard
He prostrated handing the olive
But embitterness from his function
Forced you to suspend him: he sobbed.
But you can’t be deceived like before
You can’t be bequeathed confusion
Let the wind play on for the meadow to dance
Let the wind play on for your refreshment
To commensurate. Let mercy be your witness.
Let eschatology over rule its recurrence.
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Nichola Okoro.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 02.02.2009.
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