When steel does it work and bullet
walked down to dusts, our hearts bled and
our eyes wept in shattering woes.
when wickedness fouled — our hearts bled.
When we found grinning skulls of our-
selves in houses of foul spirits,
our eyes wept in shattering rocks
and cold fears gripped as biting ants.
We're now conformed to differences:
when news spread as the air and buzzed
"bomb blasted, killed many, injured..."
they say let's ear and see new things.
They hold Nicodemus meetings
and their Python still Dance to the
songs of spilling blood. we're not shocked
as blood do not run through the vein.
The wicked goods are waxing worse;
we don't feel the shock anymore,
the world is coming to an end —
we don't feel the shock anymore.
Akinwale Peace Akindayo