adorned in majestic marbles far smoother than silk.
The witless intelligence of his young your begetter did not foresee,
giving no regard to your health, for they were an unruly ilk.
The Lord breathed a flawless gust into man's nostril,
yet he exhaled a hellish miasma into heaven.
Now the clouds become an inflated brothel,
brightly lit by darkness like that fashioned by Solon.
From the sky's injured throat comes violent flashes and squalls;
and down falls a legion of rain attacking thy precious face.
Your erstwhile lofty robe now blackened and corroding stoles,
the soil on which you scarcely stand is neither spared nor given salience.
Once a symbol of celebration and limitless gratitude,
now reduced to a corpse of human benevolence to which I now allude.
Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2017
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