By P.A. Esangha
Dazed: The Enslaved Mind
His destiny in his own hand An easy trade without a brain-cap Ignorant, a man without a plan. A future he sold for a grain-cup Bottles, bottle in the house of bottles Imprisoned by his own greed Unable to solve life's puzzles He is nothing but a helot. He stares his slave master, dazed. His gold replaced with cubes. Through the city preach he concord. For a fee of food crumbs Dazed! The land owner rent his house The lord of an empire is servant.
My Saviour, The Slave Master
Beautifully he clothes himself, A god glory he must deserve. Creatively, the maker made him. call him a masterpiece when film He is that perfect handmaid. A lord of wealth he doth not make An unsmart ruler of the smart. Father to the ones he unfathered Master of failed promises Call him a baron of incompetence. He is a faithful liar Wow to the believer of a flier. All road made but death traps Mass employment with food crumbs. Call him a creative word artisan How cruel is his kindness. Foreign trips for medical Whereas he build world class hospitals. Patron of far education With world class schools, Underneath mango trees at home. All hail my slave master Lord of mind games Evil intentions shrouded in goodwill How wasteful it is to flock dead horses
Love! Such an aching tooth With a glamorous garment Nicely suited in lust She lure her prey Like a chick after a corn tray Love! An elusive world of fantasy Prospect of a destiny she presents The skies coloured in blue, blues. Impossible to tell of the end Thoughts of such quickly dismissed In fear, so to happen. How many heart hast thou broken, How many graves hast thou open? The lives you have taken How many more will you The glorious exit of the saint; The delight of Romeo to bow out, The maker someday all deed shall judge.
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