Glorification
If bristles are mouth
I shall use them to praise
And my hairs are mouth
I shall use them to praise
For He's leading my way upon the choice I made
For roads are many and manta devours my head
In an abyssal ocean; brain drenched of ideation,
Still I swam a fish hope for season
To change to dry, to dry my brain
Oh! Poor soul in complication
As a beetle lifting a huge rock
With its sucking jaw or beak
When difficulty comes one's means
One might turn into a goose
Little fishes of land giggled and
Stabbed me with outwards.
Um! To God be the glory
The choice I made for poetry
Gave me true dimple grin
As two lovers face each with grin
Till my night was brightened
By bright light shines as gold
Orginated from the moon.
9/10/15
Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2015
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