the ancient bell rings,
in reminder of how things were,
before chaos became King.
now, things fall apart,
as the darkest ironies of civilization surface,
in an excellent wretch of madness!
with a high glory to entropy,
nothingness defines its emptiness
in a reckless rage!
the ritual of innocence is bathed in cold blood!
the eldest night is yet to be unveiled.
it’s a mad world!
for the center of the world is empty
the ship sailing us is drowning
our captains are escaping reality.
all we’ve got is rage!
a blind recklessness
in eternal anarchy!
This poem was published in the 7th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
Please click here to download.
Read – No Glory – Elabor Oboseiye (Nigeria)
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