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On a Darkling Plain[for Blackrose]

The sun has set on our harried noon,the owl
play elegy on the lintel of gathering  a dusk,
serenating sounds scour the soul,with searing rhythm of pain,
a ricocchet of cracking hearts,heard above the beatitudes muttered in chilling 
morsels or whispered from tyrant heights

 The sun has set on a blasted noon,we grope 
in the choking darkness for a flicker,to guide 
our faltering feet,while vultures above,attracted 
by the stench of our dying dream,eyele migrates 
with its burden of goodwill,leaving a chaotic order in
our haunted lair
agbe add a soprano of loneliness and seething sorrow,aluko
supply a dirge for grandstanding cleric and mumbling mullahs
who concoct hatred with fashionable false and 
deodorized dogmas

The sun has set,yet dross of care maul the heart
while hope gallop like a trojan horse 
to armageddon
we are familiar strangers in a season of tsunamis,praying
forlornly for sun's soothing rays,but

Will dry bones ever rise again 
on this darkling plain?
                                                                                  Aug04

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things