Christmas 2027 Poem by PROMISE ITA OKPOHOUDEME

And the new sky is coming home here,
Again, i see a new cloud gathering here,
As love can't be measured by time,
So is hatred a matter of time.

The sphere whirls not a new,
It is a moveable constant circle,
As peace owns no permanent seat,
So is war on no eternal deal.

The new sky is ready to rain rains,
No more the storms that terrorized the trees,
Nor the floods washing the shrubs,
Or the erosions cursing the forests.

The sky has promised here sunny song,
Through the rumbling racing gong,
But, virtue beseech another wait,
For we never see fair so late.

Hurrah! Christmas is on the way again,
Masquerades are raking everywhere,
A restrictor of masquerades is,
Seeking for a second masque.

They must dance, ignorance claps,
Peace is sue, matchet is chant,
Followers are building podiums,
On a trampling mission of living ant.

Christmas is coming with,
Dusty projects Here and there,
Fading away as soon as few masquerade,
Danced away the stool beneath.

On quagmires they grow corpses like grass,
On daily mires sinks the stool before the last,
On Christmas twenty seven,
Who's leaving Heaven!

For the grasses singing changes
Though angels hide their faces!
As cloudy storms come in daily phases,
But the green portion stands in deprived glory.