It won’t be an offence if I call these men 'no men'
These creatures are too scared and fret for death
For a just cause they won’t even breathe out a word
Yet their lives ebb away with each second that
counts
They think they are men who own themselves
But they are actually slaves in big chains
Surrounded by carnivores who feed on them while they
are alive
Oh! I wonder why they slumber
Why won’t they stand against this oppression?
Now I know they have the impression
They wallow in falsity that they are in possession
They treasure their leisure in seizure and
pleasurable misdemeanor
Their transgression will keep them eternally in
repression
Gradually they wither and in skeletal swagger sink
In the abyss of regret they stink in seizure.
Each will wake up soon, a dead man!
Emilia Ikpa (21/11/2014)
Breezy brew
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