When a child knows how to wash clean
Easily he enjoys pounded yam with elderlies

I have washed clean; I am bath clean
He or them that cannot bath clean

Their clothes are stolen by god of the wind
God Favor; please, fracture me not

Not lacking anything good
Whenever I earn I earn money

Not pain not sorrow not mourning
Not anything harmful can come nigh me

Like the fateful day
Orunmila was threading the windy land

Storm began to pack everything
Wind began to blow everything

Orunmila the solely untouched
"Why such?" they began to inquire

Who you see is not who I am
I'm immortal threading your mortal land

No evil can ever touch nor befall me
I'm solid as Psalm ninety-one verse ten.

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

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