NAIJA BLOG

 The Waiting Game is the dying game  a game of mahjong and chess with the grave we wait for life and love we wait for the right things to come but they never do, so we wait some more we wait in bile in cubicles we hate  with people, we do not rate we wait for sun and snow for spring and rain  for that break for that kiss waiting and du\ying is the game of life

 Dead eyes, the thousand years stare look at you from you from those who once had a soul that had died from the barrage of evil and injustice and could not bear to live like others live, and now become living dead awaiting signs of life unaware dead things never re-live again soulless eyes from the ones nurtured in greed, cunning and self wanton self supersedes all, everything, everyone is an object used and discarded in wanton fulfilment of self these are the young ones bred to run this dead country, bred to ruin this dead country Dead leaders locked in the endless quest of debauchery diseased and weakened by wealth and its ills, they claw onto power dead brains, dead thoughts, dead acts, walking corpses masters of the  beating the tribal drums, masters of divisions and hate, slaves to self In this dead country nothing works,  the mortuary attendant of Maitama General Hospital is a lord, who decides what corpse stays and which does not In this dead country, the demons waltz freely, th

I drink at the pond of Despair Poe drank in the water salty tears the horror of the morning unrelieved by the succor of sleep renewed by the horror of the morning despair that clutched you by the edge of your throat despair never-ending ...ending is disassociation to be relived by the horror of reality despair and reality intertwined like two Siamese twins in an eternal loop the despair of a mother with an eternally sick child the despair of loss and life and life and loss the despair of failing dreams gilded cages  the despair of a withered life, of the perpetually forsaken  perpetually ill-treated the despair of the Silent God. Fate and Faith to accept the pain of life is to live in pain and the sole recourse to a life of tears

Oh silent God oh cruel God Oh silent sky wide and empty as life     My tears have been wasted My heart mourns waiting for your voice But the knowledge of your absence doesn't lessen this despair  I cry the tears of the fated doomed The twisted child  The pariah The outcast  The sodomised boy on death row  We know the tears we cry in the middle of our sleep The hope that rises with the sun The despair that sets with the sun Oh silent God, unjust in all your ways Who delights in the blood of  children and basks in the bellow of tyrants Life is our prison of despair  Through your silence, you have said I cried too much, I hoped to much, I loved too much, I believed too much, Oh silent God oh cruel God I find your voice in the evil I see I hope your voice sets me free from you

 I lost you years ago Amid the tears of my youth  And the worry of my youth I search for you amidst unfriendly eyes And decaying hearts Where will you be found Oh tortured one who longed for a dream And was gifted horrors of despair  When did you flee? Was it at ten, wandering unmothered Looking for solace in friends Was it in the eyes of lovers  With their lust  mistaken for shelter  Oh you would not be found  because I cannot bear to face the places you have been Beaten hidden left distraught and destroyed But like the doomed I fight to find you, you shattered thing In the layers of painful days that stretch like the Agadez In the middle of half-slept nights riddled with horror and pain Oh you poor shattered thing Oh heaven gracious heaven Full of  promises  Finally of silence You hang in judgement over my pain Used to your absence full of your wrath I look up to you wretched despair  I find traces of you in places of pain I find signs of you in the Mamuna hunters song I find some of