Oedipus Poem by Olufayo Ezekiel

Furious f-a-te perches on man
Weaving its webs all
over his wonder world.
The prowess of its MIGHT;
Machetes the dawning victories of
help-less m-a-n to dust
And b-l-o-w-s away the standing legendary c-a-s-t-l-e of ageing
years in a perilous way.

His night becomes saddened;
Like the wretched end of a falling hero,
Whose life fails to feel the thunderous noise
of his joyful home out of war.

Man writhes and wriggles in pain
from the gods who make him a pun,
Struggles and strives against the nature who Strangles and wrecks him to death,
And against himself, who decays the world,
Makes it absurd and Runs it wild,
like the widening madness of an ani-man.

The hands of the gods are heavier,
Heavier on man that makes him groans in hunger,
After sailing the endless seas without predating a prey.
His greens are set ablaze,
Making him fruitless in solace from the gods.

Even if man beat his drum,
And Dance to its tunes,
Romance his world And worship himself;
Still, he will enslave himself
in the free world.