Herdsmen Technology Poem by prince oranusi

When grief gets to the hills
Let the sky speak for in the Judges den
My clan exist in my feeble mind
A strong hold of memories
Cloned from the clowns embryo
Seating still and dashing out a yoke of smile
No sleep erased its victims
Biting teeth and grinding tooth's

Here comes the bogey man
Raised from the dust of the ghosts
Reincarnated from plots and piles of daggers
Weaved and redefined by an armoury of back stabbers
Here comes the bogey man
Left in a casket of silence
Weaving in the illusion of a mastermind
Screaming and the swords beneath the bones
Yet smiling patiently for tomorrow
Here comes the bogey man

The hawk nested in the eagles pit
The lion reared by a wolf
The mirror tells the reflecting tales
An ambulance of rumours amidst cunning facts
The debt of war a memory hunting us
Fingers and directions coordinated
A beam finding faults in the air we breath
A sad note played for perfection
A symphony for deaf ears
Books written with a hole in the heart
A cold war that which brings about rifts
Pardon my calamity and blunders from deliberation