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Francis Apr 2018
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

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