Tales From Timothy - Poem by ONOJA ANTHONY
I could have merry out of the stars
Pearls from breathful jungs of Plateau
Mountains were job of jex and honour
The moving life laugh out of us in pains
Making the beast a true warlock
Again we slip to memories of praise
Flag of leadership seize to blow the roof from barfanata...
Deck where these mills were smoked
The gods of youth were slain to dust
Everyday, the sun witnesses her last
Oh Timothy! Sons of many nights
This we saw, neither joy nor sorrow seemed to come
On this mountain, wolves were elements of good living mastons of wisdom
In cities where we lived, hands of weekends were slained with blood, whose blood?
Rams n goats were never known for peace in this city of peaceful logo
See what it becomes
A dreadful terror of living dead
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