Tell her, that they are many splinters,
And the glazier’s resin can’t hold.
Where is the masonry
On whom chisels were faulted?
Tell her, the smith’ furnace,
Has begot cold impotent ash
Where is religion,
That carries good morals?
Tell her, she lost her backing wrapper.
Where is the veil
That covered sins?
Tell her, there was a hurricane.
O! Where is the tomb
That harbored dead?
Tell her, the saved savior lives
Written by: Justice Mmahi
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.