Bright as spark, flush of good deeds
Adored, envied, much desired by all
Yet there’s a dark room full of hubris
How so can one be brilliantly flawed?
All scripture doth know and quote
Oft right on the money for purity
But then that one flaw – that rote of destruction
Doth stalk, even as the encomiums pour.
Lonesomeness begets a license
Separation breeds inner struggles
Abiding alone harbingers amok imaginations
You gat no grip, no anchor for safety.
Simmering beneath that veneer of gold
The wooden sepulchre of morbidity grind
Dark, inhibitive thoughts, grave draconian muses
Your soul assailed, dust to dawn like curfews.
Who can rescue from this constant
ringing, this tintinnabulum that on and on goes?
Maybe Immortality’s judgment coming?
That nadir, certain culmination of reckoning?
Get a grip, seek the gift, freely given
You, born to rule, programmed to reign,
adrift? Brilliance alone no saviour be.
Realignment with the Daystar, your sure bet!
© 21st July 2016. Adewale Adeniji