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THE BOY AND THE RAM: Surhdique Adeogun

I weep for thee;
Tied to the stake
Beside the burning flames
And heavy metal pots.

I weep for thee;
Soon to be offered
As a betoken of our worship
To the Creator.

Here comes thy crucifixion,
Which takes not thy soul
But that which is flesh in thee–
For thy soul, is incapable of sniffing.

I look away,
Now that the blood–thirsty knife
Approaches thy neck;
Away, from the sight of thy juicy blood
Spilling out
Like the warm springs of hometown;
From the innocence in thy pupils
And their shutting,
Gradually, like the transition
From the bright day to dark nightfall.

Our mothers –in festive glee –
Shall make spicy broth
And we shall dip and chew –
Ourselves and neighbors too.

But you need not worry
For you died in holiness
And your blood was spilled
While your soul sailed on a course divine.

I weep not –shorn of delight
And filled with envy –
For I wish I were slain like thee,
On a path of righteous.

Mideast Israel Palestinians Eid al Adha

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

  • Good one.

  • surhdique adeogun

    thank you,sir princewill for stopping by.special thanks to you too,sir kukogho.without youthis certainly wouldn’t be happening.i’m grateful

    • And if you hadn’t done something great by writing out your thoughts, this wont happen at all…

      Give it up to the poet of the future!

      • surhdique adeogun

        true that,but thanks again.

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