The booming voice of the silent gods,
Their will has been enacted;
Sacrifice was made in flesh, blood
And Ashake’s Maidenhead.
Alade threw a huge tantrum
But the gods were silent
And their wills unchanged,
Ashake would marry the crown
And birth the fame that would shame the lame.
The sun arose from its eastern abode
And graced this sacrifice
With foreboding warmth.
The sky was bedecked with angry clouds
But their noise had been muted
By the hands that be.
The gods decision was unwavering
And Alade’s tantrum knew a short painful silence;
His final gasp as the blood drenched the earth
Was barely audible and indistinguishable
From the wind’s softly spoken farewell.
The gods had their way
But where did that leave fate:
She sat on a stool of misfortune
And awaited the outcome of the event;
The fame to shame the lame.
Ashake’s groin birthed not one but two,
Her tears freely trickling down her cheek
As her blood flowed erratically down her thighs;
She has birthed the fame and the lame
And now that the gods had spoken,
The fame must shame the lame.