standing; we know not
Maybe a handwriting on the wall,
the gods we know have spilled
their thoughts
Crackling, cackling, flames giggling,
The portrait of Hades right over our heads,
the stars of the East have fled to the West,
the angels, seen they, a vision of death
Dancing, prancing, rocks igniting,
Rhythms of Sheol have flooded our ears,
Heave...Ho...the tears of the moon,
the thought of hope has darkened the skies
- Olawale Ibiyemi
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