As jittery tongues wag and
nag
Scarring the mild ether of
now in times like this
In times when savages wear
the tiaras of power
Clothed in despotism and
malevolence.
In times like this, spittle
of repulsion is set free
Worrisome squeals of disgruntlement
Gush out of dampened
alimentary canals of those
Despoiled, exploited and
beleaguered.
Every nook is infected
Down with one doleful lurgy or
another
And nothing seems right in
times like this
At least, not for now
When those with ages of
score and above and below
Delight in the flamboyance
of conceit made valid by proponents of in-humanness.
Day in, day out
Breeds nothing near change
For this distressing travesty
of humanity to thrive.
When the moon and the stars
cease to slumber in dark skies
Lips know no respite
Exchanging tales of terror
not far-fetched
Made manifest by
yesteryear’s ordeals
And not a home is left
behind in this querulous public sphere
Where the heart of the
matter routs the matter of the heart.
Worst still, is how feet
waddle and stumble in the streets of survival
With ardor and emotions
turning effete
In a haste to catch up with
this pandemic emptiness
That has overtaken us all.
Alas! Light of day ensnares sprogs
to be done for
With twilight fraught
with grimaces
As venomous rehearsals of
midnight gentlemen become ubiquitous
Inspiring awful blubbering
and humongous ire
In eyes already known to
depredation and mayhem.
Perhaps, tomorrow may never
come
When we shall behold this
plague no more
For all to exhale ease and
repose in relief
That these ominous incubuses of
dismay may rot in oblivion.
Perhaps, tomorrow may never
come
When streams of hope will
flourish
Dissipating the pervasive slaying
thirst for life and amity
Born of the sway of poverty
and dearth of spunk.
Tomorrow may never come
When opportunities will be
as rife as morning glory
Pleading not to be expunged
by souls with aspirations
As titanic as the mammalian sea
giant.
Perhaps, tomorrow may never
come
As we so dread the thoughts
of not beholding the terminus of now in misery
Awaiting deified ransom of
our souls from the way of heinousness
Our rash feet have treaded
Forestalling that those
after us may forsake this path
That has made times like
this whammy
Depicting treachery, peril
and hampering tomorrow’s birth.
Perhaps, tomorrow may never
come
When the womb of dawn will
beget providence
Emitting rays of glee, not
gloominess
For the ecowarriors among us
recline in ignominy
With teeth made to gnash and
left to starve in helplessness.
Unity seeks to reign
Though hope is said to wane,
In times like this
When not anymore do we
understand the music of love.
Folks bask in the
uncertainty of moments
Tormented by memories of old;
The young, the old,
Both derive mad mirth from
the festivity of mediocrity
And perhaps, tomorrow may
never come
When we shall behold these
whammy times no more.
Day in, day out
Breeds nothing near change
For this disturbing charade
to thrive
The rights of the weak have
been afflicted
Destitute wander about with
darkness in their hearts
Salvation declines sprouting
forth
In our lands of passivity
and purgatory
Where faith bows to famine
And there is yet to be
someone to revive us
With an antidote for our
grievances and groaning.
‘Our days are like evening
shadow’
Wilting away like grass and
mist
We live with broken guts
Pieces of shattered dreams
hover around;
I hear a revolution weighty
with overhaul looms
But not a single place is
yet secure.
‘Messed up’ seems like an irony
Our bones languish in the
corridors of pity
On the awakened realization
To have failed being the
best of humans
We were meant to be to one
another.
Perhaps, tomorrow may never
come
Living will indeed take its
course
But who knows what will
happen after all?
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