Seated in tiers,
in decorum for the unknown,
after a vigilant sacrifice.
The time is come,
now and the hours are ours.
The test is begun,
the heads are put to bow
so quills are put to sheets,
the silence rumpled by stapled leaves.
But when the powers of the mind
admits the heart by a murderous commerce,
then the senate the institutes a harlot;
the prostitution of the rose,
this is how the rose is dispossessed.
Copyright © 2011 Seated In Tiers by Simpa Omoluabi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem