At The Beautiful Gate Poem by Akinmuleya Alfred

At The Beautiful Gate

At dawn,
Before the gallinaceous roosters execute their primoda task
At the ethereal camp,
The real bogus apostles
Sat impotently at the altar stones with mask covering their real face
Sermonizing for massive trustingness.

II
(After the Pentecost day)
Then stood Peter and John among the multitudinous burgher
And flew to the temple to try their anointing
With them the national purse
The sweat of the land.
Encountered they, the layman from birth
Who witnessed the cloying rain of sermon
And equally did came from their clan,
Begged for smoother motor road,
Payment of owed salaries and
Stable health wards.
'We know him not'
They said, as they passed him by
And walk straight to the altar
To meet their white-headed few
For another money carnival.
'Alas! ! It's going to be fun' they said and never return.

AKINMULEYA. A. ALFRED
©2016.