HAZEEM OLADIPUPO OLUWATOBI KAZEEM

Is God normal?

He is not.
...

I am Africa's son, born of her womb,
Cleansed in Olokun's waters, nature's sacred tomb.
My ancestors' fortification, sweet and strong,
Courses through my veins, all day long.
...

In the dusk hush, where shadows play,
I find solace, away from life's disarray.
Not by choice, but necessity's sway,
I keep to myself, lest distractions slay.
...

If God is all powerful, is He just?
Or helpless, benevolent, we must trust?
Our fate, self written, yet we deny,
Blinded by faith, our truth, we can't apply.
...

As twilight's veil descends upon my soul,
I bid farewell, my heart made whole.
No tears, dear friends, for I've lived my share,
A life of trials, love, and tender care.
...

The truth is dark,
Yet it must be told.
The day grows dim,
Were you ever told?
...

When the sun resigns its duty
and lamps grow tired of truth,
they emerge soft-footed men in borrowed cloaks,
counting dreams like rain caught in open palms.
...

They did not return with chains.
They returned with maps that smiled,
with clean shoes and dirty agreements,
with hands stretched forward
...

Why did you stop fighting?
I stopped the moment I knew I was dead.

Dead? But you're still here.
...

In Harmattan, the tree stands thin and quiet,
wearing dust like an old, borrowed robe.
The wind bites its leaves into whispers,
the sky cries but no tears.
...

Every morning
I wake before the sun,
Not because I am older,
But because I am expected.
...