I lost myself in the tale of adventure,
In the voyage of time that was passed from our forefathers,
Driven and tossed by the wind of civilization.
.
I felt the rain dripping from the eyes of our ancestors,
Drenching our farms, roofs and even children playhouses,
To open our myopic eyes to the luxury of time we seem to lack.
.
I heard it! Loud but unclear,
Great words like whispers, whispers like murmurs,
Coming right from the assembly of trees,
The warning of our ancestors,
Echoing from the forest of the unseen,
Setting back our feet from the animalization we call civilization.

Balogun David   (Drunk poet)
© 2017