Omnipresent Poem by Adeoye Adetoba

He was, he is and he is to come.

He was, was the tale beating hard
The drums of our ears into remembrance;
Of a king so regal and glamorous
And his subjects neck deep in squalor;
Of his land so rich and bountiful
And the abject penury that walked its face.
The rivers of blood that buoyed his throne
Upon the fallen souls his rule established
Sounds the horrifying tale of the past;
Of a king neither royal nor loyal.

He was, he is and he is to come.

He is, is the view that plague our eyes,
Our king past fattening on the throne.
Subjects held by the jugular, blood draining low,
Crumbs from the royal table and flesh made tenous,
Dreams become labourous with empty belly -
Youthful dreams melting at daylight reality.
Royal pageantry and display of commonwealth
Held in uncommon coffers and secret pockets,
We watched, mortgaging our future with silence,
Hoping against hope of a knight to the rescue.

He was, he is and he is to come.

He is to come is the terrifying echo
That punctures our sleep nightmarishly
The foretelling of his coming sounded
Like damnation and hope irredeemable,
Yet he rode on a white horse set into.the future.
The children were promised tomorrow;
Three baskets of water had already been filled
Yet the words that echoed hope, not a drop.
He is set to live the dreams of our young
Even as his head turns hoary with age.