The Coming Poem by Lamina Ifeoluwa

*The coming*

_Acquiescing in tune to what the rhythm plays_
_Blindlessly succumbing to what his word says_
_Callously advancing till the date of his return_
_Dastardly we slash and burn like the sun_

_Erroneously we anticipate his coming is yet still far_
_Fruitfully, some wings still soar_
_Gleefully, bellowing of trumpets​ grace the air_
_The king arrives the scene with an extreme dare_


_Sky rumbles as time reels near_
_He is an ally not a force to fear_
_His odes sung from a distance away_
_To the abode where we will get to see someday_

_Oh yeah! The king is here
_With his minions and angelic hoods so dear_
For what would it profit a man?
That lost his soul and lurks in tar

Lamzy✍🏼
©2017
Pecan Crew™