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