My friendly enemy, my woe,
My success, it, sunrise and tide stood still and
waited,
While running for a double faced demon.
The oceans in war with my ambitions,
The moon aggressive to the dying
twilight in my
newly closed mouth,
He said I must decide to loose or
win the signs of
the sunny moon’s shadow.
At exactly twelve o’clock midnight
they made hay,At the same time in charge of ritual
oratory, their calabash in the floor’s sky.
above
the iroko tree.
The mystical was in possession of a compass,
Couldn’t
understand the drawings, four brained deities
Interpreted
walking terrestrial shadows;
Maybe they had a wrist watch.
Our sages even while somnambulating at sunrise,
Read the shadows and made grandiose inferences,
Hand
writings on heavenly
walls,
signs and symbols for the so called virgin deities.
He is in war with man while the oceans had
A dispute with those red salmons,
Sending them back
to the
Magma river
to lay aluminum eggs,
He’s too slow and dull,
Like the
flapping wings of a humming bird,
At the same time, faster than fast,
Like the little Chinese snail Angustopila dominikae.
.
Procrastinators are humming killers,
Giving greens to sloths in the Amazon,
Wise usage of time will not just make you survive,
But thrive and prosper at the right time.
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