Lucid
The days of naivity dissipate
as soul eclipse offers a new shine
for an hunted soul vengeance
like a torrent of a blind rain
whose staff found shelter in race
now the pants of truth torment our lies
sending furore shivering endlessly
to our desolate soul of a lost monastery
molesting the company of ego
in exchange of a funfair at parrot feast
once, our lost act suffers clamour
for a debt settled lost we offered
plain and wavy banters leftover
unfolding past of courting deceit
loosing self for a clearer lift
and now, the joy of knowing embraces
our mesmerized soul to stupor
and the imperial lids gain its sight
In a cosmos sail.
Ayeni Taiwo
©2022
Read:Other poems from this blog
Photo by pexel
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