You Are The Cause Of It - Poem by macaulay akinbami
Wake up sleeper; they mingled trouble with your joy,
Why did you open the gates?
They came in
They visited you like they did to me,
I wish you knew,
There are surreptitious and nocturnal gatherings against you
Against you in covens
Did you sleep well?
Did they press you as if to death?
Did you wake with marks on your belly?
Or your eyes, thigh,
A piercing of witchcraft,
Lest I forget,
They fed you too and so well did you feed,
They defile you often and you wake up dirty,
You are still pretending to be okay,
Play your game to the grave,
You will die soon.
If you do not know warfare
They are in the dark, while you sleep
They bring calamity, death, destruction, sorrow
But it is your fault,
You opened the doors.
The answer is in your hands.
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