Would I wither?
Would I drown?
Would my undigested soul be sucked away
by the vacuum cleaners of immoral existence?
Would all my life’s dream be washed away
on the shore of immoral wanting and groaning?
Would the works of my hands be
judged by the works of another man?
The essence of my mortality crumbled
underneath the dogma of this wretched world
My mind asks all these questions and yet I find no answer
Not from the recess of my diabolical mind
Nor from the spiritual essence that flows from the cosmos or
Nor from the multicolored vines that falls from the sweet colored sky
The essence of which men have tried to fathom.
I do not understand
I ask questions
I find no answers
The questions tie my mind, my intellect
My grey matter, my very dark soul
Yet I find no answer
What must a debased soul do to find happiness?
Certainly not from the firm stroking of the sensual rod
Not from me…
Not from someone else…
And certainly not from the immortal cosmopolitan charlatans
Not from the religious bigots who stand on exalted platforms spitting out
Venom of supernatural relationships
Standing on their exalted vehicles on the streets
In the houses
In their various corners all over the goddamned world
Screaming out hallelujah!
Mystic chants of heavenly chants but of no earthly value
Singing and dancing
Rolling wide hips and succulent breast of gratitude
Tempting the gods
Emptying their pockets into the ever growing earthly banks of our earthly spiritual bankers
Storing up treasures for themselves on
On the planes of immortality
Written by: Olorunfemi Studiotwo Adesunkanmi
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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