Like clockwork, at this hour of Nether invasion;
I am jerked into the deserts of waking,
At this hour when the living is dead.
What ails you, mangy cur,
To warrant tormented yelping?
Tick in your fur, cur?
To warrant somnambulant weeping?
The howls echo far and near;
Perturbed beasts in unanimous outcry of lamentation
Of this cursed gift of clairvoyance.
I am no beast; thank You
For this optical ineptitude to prowling phantom.
For I can lapse into ignorant slumber
Devoid of visions of unrested wraiths.
Written by: Ogundiran Ajibola ‘toby
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.