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Followers

Not Heaven Or Hell But This Mundane

In the territory where sun or ray is never shun
Darkness and groping are form of living
In the land where earning is by all means
The powders for dough is dearly worth than glowings
Alliance-bait seems rosy train (whatever ripe is rotten)
The truth remains, he lost the day he was born
The very tick tock his inner being was burnt
To leak the beverages better than Milo
Friends and families at the burial thought
Heaven up above is now his new home
Where everlasting peace fondle his chest plate
But heaven mock their foolish hope
'Cos heaven's gate was long ago shut
Every humans dead_ departing this earth,
Whom we thought were wicked or perfect
On earth to become heavenly rich
Are worm and magot fed in their caskets;
They do not go anywhere, not even an inch.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry
(the Leo with wings flying)

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