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Muideen Opeyemi Apr 2021
Alone I sat in the garden of thought;
With my intestines I'm battling out words;
Troubling my brain at its resting slot;
about this so-called mystic world:

It has no horns but knocks one down;
Many monarchs had before it bow(d);
A pool of deception it is,in it some had drown(d):
Yet we chase after it like clowns:

It beguiles humans with its fairest nature;
A foe it is,a creature too cruel:
We got captivated by its gaudy herald;
And in an unknown pitch we found ourselves dwell(ing):

By it venom many have got stung;
Yet,they couldn't discover where things had gone wrong;
Hard they strive,but little they earn;
The race of life has no medal or gong:

Many a people manouvre to thrive in life;
abortive all their effort have proved;
While some are merrying on what they work not for;
They see themselves as wise while others are fops:

O you rich! forget not!
Your today's mansion and beauty fields:
Your recent cars,so gazed on now;
Will be a tatter'd ****,of small worth held:

Then you shall be ask'd where all your wealth lies;
Where all the endearment of your ***** days;
All you gathered  your entire life shall become old;
When their possessor has become odd:

Why do we got beguiled by it that flattens?
When we know that worldly ornaments are narcissism;
All these were running through my mind;
When I was alone in the garden of thought:
Muideen Opeyemi Apr 2021
I won't wait till the time lapses;
Before making myself known with the power of my phrases;
Care not getting there through the path of no traces;
Till I end up earning praises upon praises;

No amount I get of teases;
Nor amount of obstacles that impede;
My relentless head will always be highly raised;
Till dries up my sweltering face:

Never will my voiceless voice be short of words;
when all I get is my last cord;
Till my splitting efforts with one another chord;
And bring for me remarkable honour and accord:

Never will I give up with ease;
Although I could hardly feed my bowel with cheese;
I will fight till I give out my last breath;
Then my soul will have the desired peace:

Never will I drift on success;
Until it faceless face with my hand I caress;
If it will cost me pains in excess;
Appreciation would be all I would ultimately express:

Never will I be distracted by the alluring tones;
Of failure,even I ought to walk on thorns;
Supposing that I get knocked a million times on the run;
I will make sure I have my *** seated on the thrones:

— The End —