In the land of the wicked
Angles wear black
Demons wear white
Priests wear both
Because anything goes
If only it would promote havoc
And rain wickedness from the sky
In the land of the wicked
Fellars are pruned
Prone to die
Die for mercy feeling
Making abiku sound like child
The dead talk like living
In the land of the wicked
In the land of the wicked
Chickens never lay egg
They give birth
Elephants don’t give birth
They lay egg
cadaver don’t decay,
They modify
And natives are indicted for violation
A city in another caste
In the land of the wicked
The land hidden from God
Where the sky is just black,
And black alone
Where no heart exists
Our own white house
The land of the wicked
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice simile ''The dead talk like living In the land of the wicked'' nice meditative poem