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
