Riling Poem by Oyekake Satty (O S) Joshua

What heavy grief this life accords
What lot my hands on me bestow
Yet to nature, I ascribe no blame
Nor rebuke to the hand of chance
That at the cradle of human worth
Where love and respect is nurtured
And this riling, this constant dripping
This festering, this vociferous rankling
This voice, raucous and contentious,
Finds no respite to bring me indignity
Nor reprieve from affront and insults
And the disparaging pronouncements
As though this lingering deprivation
My reproach from fruitless endeavor
The distress of a floundering vocation
Has not brought me enough despair
Nor bequeathed enough humiliation
But this taunting dance of contempt
This repeated chanting of my failures
Cuts deeper than an enemy’s blade
And maims my soul ten times more
Than the Devil’s deadliest stroke