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DELILAH’S DEN: by Ogoluwa Simon Ojewale

She came from a region
Where men ignored their cultures
They formed a religion
And made their gods with sculptures

She asked how long I pray to my God
For Him to ever listen
Do I trust His word?
And does it truly christen

Good body, bad intentions
I know her plans are evil
Her moods can be infectious
And even make a pope feel sinful

She turned me into her pup
And became the angel in my dreams
It seems I’ll never wake up
As her pot of potion steams

Her soul is fully dressed
With beauty that appears to do no harm
She’s got me possessed
Under her evil pluperfect charm

She thirsts for my power
And hungers for my flesh
She waits by the hour
Till I get caught up in her mesh

I’m entrapped in her shell
All I see are past victims and palls
Like Samson, I am blinded by her spell
But can I break through these walls?

I’m right in the shoes of Joseph
Escape routes on my mind
But when I think to myself
Her face is all I find

Thinking of a way to tell her
My hair is already taken
But I’m locked up in her cellar
Waiting for her conscience to awaken

I’d rather lie in a Lion’s den
For my soul it cannot kill
Than be one of Delilah’s men;
A slave to her will

DELILAH'S DEN by Ogoluwa Simon Ojewale

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

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