By Adenuga Babatunde
Hands gripping the staff
Always rummaging for the cudgel
His first leg goes before
Happy is the silent man
Though in life’s darkness
Yet in the happiness of the heavenlies
For what strains my shapeless eyes
And conk my heart
Is it the lust of the eyes?
Or my legs taking me to destruction?
A disaster I could avoid
Yet you are blameless
No life distraction to sink you
You know not how death strikes
Nor the colour of delight
My knowledge of this is killing
You are innocent
Doing as if they are not
To many deceitful life images.
(Adenuga Babatunde is an emerging Nigerian poet and prose writer)