Oyetunde Bolanta

Howling tempest tearing through the savannah

lord of lights, prince of darkness doing the biddings of pilfering masters

sterling like the palm tree unruffled by storms virile as the surging stream lithe and green with age

Squirming through the body waves of spasms
Ridges of sweat furrow the brow

tossed to and fro in and out as the sea waves
tongue in check winking with the eyes

orgy of blood letting bedlam of bestiality
like a ship having lost its moorings they run unhinged

aimlessly swaying like the reef uncertain pilgrims cling to the river bed