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Triangle is a straight line
Wielded together over
The phantasmic ecstasy of
Illusions
The dusk comes
While dawn is still
Snoring
But, we never hear
The incoming calls of
Dangers lurking ahead
Well, do we ever care?

we walk on a bended path
Our roads are cracked and
Shaped with sledgehammer
We made 180• with curves
Time is never ours
Well, do we ever care?
at dusk, the sun leaves
pomades on our faces
Yet, we sleep unwashed
Hoping for the dew of a
New dawn to cleanse us

We own the key to great
Ancient path to tropical diadems
But, we are stuck in this
Triangular path of our
Creation
We are clouded with illusions
We choose our beliefs
We always do
Yet, we never choose
To break the loop

Triangle is
a three -sided straight line
We love 180
so, we are afraid of breaking
Out of this triangular loop
For the fear of losing our 180•
Maybe one day
Someday
When the dawn awakes
Forcing the understanding
of the golden principle of
Relativism
We may break the loop
And walk 180 down into
The Labyrinth that awaits us.

"We are captives
of our own identity,
leaving in the prison
of our own creation."
The days of your infantry
Where all things were always the same
When all eyes were always on you;
Your days when you ****** from the bulging
******* of your mama,
Your days when your glorious promises
Glittered like gold and diamond
Your days of joyous innocence are long
Gone.

You became of age
Your strengths and might
Threaten your mama,
Your Papa couldn't stand your stubbornness
Your friends had to leave,
You're now call Orisa
Ebora ti n fi eje s'omi mu.

Whenever your mama question your arrogance
You turn the road down-upside
Up the fairy flame of fire
She was roasted alive while we all stood and watched
We could not even grace her a goodbye party
Then your Papa died a horrible death
They said Sanponna struck him,
Some said it was Ayilala.

Bode Saadu,
Ogun, Eesu,  
Pleaded on our behalf
Yet, you remained unquestioningly wicked;
When you are happy and you want us to rejoice
With you,
Your banquet is hosted in the village square
Where sun is the special guest of honour
The lid of the pit of hell is uncovered
And the demons would pour out with aprons on their necks:
The event is never much different
-Down the tankers, Up the fairy flames of fire -
Now, your days are grey
Still, your rage is same
You know no forgiveness
You have no compassion
At dawn, the children called you orphan
At dusk, they were roasted like your mama

Everyday we wake with the fear of the unknown
Yet, we cannot stop paying our homage at the
Cemetery near your play ground.
We groan in the chains tied around our necks
And in our agony, we hope that someday, maybe
Your evil days will pass.
But, for now we call you Bode Saadu,
The land of the unknown god.
How sure your truth is true?
When tested with time against circumstances,
What answer do you get?
When your knowledge upgrades,
Is your truth still returned true?

The truth shall set you free
What is your truth?
What do you believe?
Why do would you **** for your truth?

I know what I believe
I hold a string of faith
I have the dynamics of my cause in my veins.
You dare not question why I took the cause.

But when my truth shall face the test
Will it still returned true?
Will my cause hold the banner of the truth I claim?
Will I still be energized to **** and be killed for my truth?
Will nature judge my truth true?

Some died for
Some killed for
Some kept quiet
Some kept shouting.

Some keep buying
Some keep selling
Some keep the transaction of truth
Cos it's their able business.

well, some keep the cause
Even when they know not if the truth is true.
I cry, rant and break
When you hurt me
I expect you to be perfect and unblemished
You expect me not to hurt you.
I expect you not to stab me in the back

But, what I run from is always at my tail
What I warned you about is what you are now warning me about too.
When I expect you not to mess up.
You surely come around with knife at my back.

But, what I failed to know
What I failed to understand
Is what I experience on the outside
Is a function of the activities on the inside.
What I refused to understand
Is you cannot disappoint me
I can only disappoint myself.

When you hurt me
It is as a result of my failure to understand that:

What happens to me is what I invite.
Looking back to the hidden days
I remember the hide and seek we denied we played
The absent days of distracted focus of thought.
I loved my yesterday a bit
It's reminds me of my binary dilemma of you.

Yesterday grows into today
And as I join the conference of thoughts
About the pain we passed through,
Though you, yesterday, brought them to me,
I shall consult today for my memory cleansing.
Even though, when I use yesterday to scratch the face of today for the hope of seeing tomorrow,
All I see is the moving pictures of yesterday
Looping through the blocks of codes of today.

But, I have to create
I have to debug
I have to call the functions of a peaceful lines of codes
written in my moments of distress.

Today, I clean my textarea
Willing to let go of yesterday's buggy loops
Willing to put my fingers into creative coding of my binary dilemma.
Maybe today will not return yesterday.
This I hope, as today, I crossed into a new line of moments.
willing to let go of my yesterday's buggy loops.
Willing to write a new loop of hopeful love.
New beginning...
What makes a day?
The death of a moment, Or the birth of another?
Is it the silence of a troubled heart?
Or the trouble of a silenced heart?

What makes a day?
Is it the belief, or the unbelievable belief?
The angel of a day?
Or the devil of a cross road moment?
The thought of yesterday?
Or the grace to think there is an imperfect today?
Maybe the hope of begging for tomorrow?

The philosophy of death
The astronomy of life
The polymorphism of a police-minded banker

Will all these make a day?
Can we actually live a well spiced day?
Or are we just bringing a dead day to live?
What makes a day?
The fire is eating the roof
But all we do is snore and snore
And when the smoke woke us up
Run we to the saviour;
Our western warlords

Hey brother, wake up, come back
The saviour is indeed the one with the fire
Come back from your daydream
He promised to help heal your diseases
But hey, Stop that Jubilation
He will only do one thing;
Send more harm

The fire is running down the house
And all we do is run
We keep running to the fireman
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