Roaming In the dark continent Where the sun shone brightly And the grass withers too Even on the ground so dark and loamy
I met her dressed Clad in fur with a spice of myrrh She stood a feet of four, or more With an enticing smile that beckons to all And eyes that gazed effects past Medusa
Her seductive touch Seemed to stretch across all town and rank Leaving a scar on all that touched And yet the taste of her lips Stood the desires of all men alike
She is the good and the bad Pushing you to the tidings of religiosity Budding your hands with a tedious tidy Or lest, a dubious mind This black land stands a stretch of Medusa's lair
Her fangs dripped bleed, profusely Of the bloods of the hungry and skinny But she seemed to have bitten deeper To the marrows of cognition and behaviour too Yarding each dream and act to her myopic skirt
A loud soliloquy sang her heart These lads have been faithful in our relationship Romantically caressing me to such blossom With their burning desire to ditch me Quenched by a wait upon a Messiah
For to love another over me, They have to quit in their heads and hearts alike Day after day, precept upon precept Bask under the sun, fruitfully, not tirelessly And keep her close for I am never too far
As I, Poverty, Is enticingly sweet And what is sweet, can be Eden's apple So I stand behind the door Till the day you shall want another bite of me
For I am not just your fall, but your burial too
Written by : Royal Ethiopia NII Mants3 The Esteemed Vatican
About poverty especially in the african context. Where the woman persona is poverty and a dialogue between poverty and an observant stranger