This drivel slobbers down walled criss-crosses
Puncturing nature, mad rush of masses

Plotting future, cussing up hard present

To drop and collect at, yawn, blank descent

Where death wells up our high-hoping hormones
Monuments fade, marks we leave, wisp morose

Blown as dying kiss to loveless cosmos

We lunge forth for a taste of utopia

Our tongue’s toil bears us only dystopia

Our genius damned, our tombs sealed, our lights out
Forever, from fading leaves, dying flames

A call to abandon sisyphean aims

Shred our pacts with earth’s boom-bust cycle gods

And let God infinite rid us of sods

Murk that blinds our eyes, that makes our lives bland

 

Ikenna Alexander Nwachukwu

(c) 2018