Otega A

Maker of love,
May the prayers I offered thee be nulled.
For I am sorely wronged
By the damsel
...

I hear it!
O yes, I hear you!
The magic of her voice cries again!
Rising and falling in pitch
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There is but one for whom I’m startled
From the start, the starter made it so.
Be it the winds would go wild and whirl,
That the trees would bend, twine and twirl,
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It’s a tale
Tailored for the hearing of
the narrow minded.
I buy no meaning from its lines
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Beauty has many names.
In the year of our lord 1954,
It came to My Lord in the letters, Lady Katherine E.A.
The dauntless beauty, made by its maker
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Thus sayeth Milady
Thus sayeth her that seateth on d throne of ivory
Queen over great treasures; Queen over the land foreseen
"Let it be mine the greatest & pricest of thy heart;
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Long off in the village of Ayorho,
Once I met an eyesore, a beauty tattered in rags by malady.
Amazed I stood, the wheels in my head to turn.
Hers' truly beauty unseen, physique unmatched,
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I'm menacing & malicious!
My form & my carriage
Are flags of despair in whirl winds!
But despite my evil drifts & my looks
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This, I confess;
I was a soldier hearted and strong
Tirelessly fighting by day and by night
Till I beheld your lifelessness,
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A tale will be told of you and I
Written on tablets as crystalline as my love for you will be.
From the north to the south of the equator,
From the depths of the pacific to the peaks of Everest,
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I thought I could easily understand
How you could easily demand to leave me.
But I am grieved and upheaved with disbelief Ben
Wondering again, and again, where I went wrong.
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Ere he wrote beneath the rays of the dying sun,
Seated alone on the windward way with bouts of heavy breaths,
His tears were as endless streaming of blood
And his back was bent from labouring all over again through his tiring sweats.
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I drive the road you travel on.
Some times, it is broad and cosy;
Other times, it is narrow and lonely.
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Time passeth and the nights cometh.
For long, they were much awaited; now, more so hated.
Each is a twin of the former,
Neither of either, any different from life beneath the blazing sun.
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Man, often, is a grooming actor.
Sometimes his own devil beneath his shinning robes,
He's always seemingly lost from himself
And often married to a happy river of wrinkles on his forehead
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Unwariness is but sinful;
It is a sardonic slave master, numb and cold;
All too blind to reality when canniness lurks in the air.
Akin these did Jenny cease her gaping chance
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Use a thousand and one words
In the adoration of her beauty.
But the replication of her reflection will be
peripheral in the light of her true grace.
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Fascinating! Beautiful! gorgeous!
And like words, rings in your head
When you picture the way it plays
Gently and passionately on her face.
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Nigeria! Nigeria! !
The home of whirl and gentle winds,
The place of birth of great rivers and oceans,
The land of nurtured fathers and mothers,
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Life is but a curse
From which we should seek shelter.
It saddles us all nights and days
With millions of worries and fears
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