Children of the world and their gods


Children of the world
partake in their gods

They thought they squash
the ‘laws’ in their holiest skull

They walk round and round, with their
Brown leathered purse

Musing the world, in their
sacred parlance

Gong goes the bell
The lab is their eternal life

It’s four 0′ clock and still,
There’s no noise

The beast is on, for a rampage
of souls without sorrow

The cloud is large, for a downpour
of love

The ocean is filled, for a screamish
of good souls

The air is washed, for a prize of pleasure, they sleep their heart on

They found their path
Lost in the wilderness, full of stingless thorns

Who would withheld the gnash
of the relentless sword?



About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Children of the world and their gods

  1. Pingback: Children of the world and their gods | Christians Anonymous

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s