Lord Of The F***lies

 

uku na ma’ oghodo adighi nma igba oto. 

I have cast my eyes on the orgy of this world
and snickered loudly
found, bound and wound, now being torn limb from limb
and then sent out as a wanderer upon it
my punishment being the curse of my knowledge
the only voice of reason; an outcast without a shilling
 
Son, make yourself blind, if you can’t stand this disgraceful fight
Be blinded by the woman; force her upon your gut
For outside the shroud is a blinding, disappointing and sad naked
Taboo to the human eyes where adult throw stones like children
For their nakedness too is at stake
Son, be blinded, if you cannot run away
Souls wounded by fear will seek homogeneity as safety and no other
newness is not an option; as every goodnight sleep hinges on trust
For if climb up and have to look down at the cesspit; Fear!

regardless of my acceptance, I must whittle change from my resignation
carve a rink bigger than what I met
so that reason might one day find one like it and trade company
If the horde watches, might imitate and duplicate this touted simple
and the derrick will slow, it slowing is enough for me.