by September 11, 2015 0 comments

There are noisome worms
In the duodenum of righteousness;
Nefarious infidels who pretend to be redeemed
But detest all aura of rectitude.

They see
Life as an aberrant for tares,
Work ethics as a strike after the wind,
Depravity as a modus operandi;
Needful – a haven for solace

We are pious mediocres,
Morbid at their bidding; puppets
Dancing to the signals of their puppetry

They have sold justice
To the highest bidder;
And have e’en enslaved due process
In the dungeon of mediocrity

Here they are again
With rapturous smiles
Wanting our mandates
So as to stockpile for progenies unborn

Here they are again
seeking to tickle the scrotum
of our grace

Would your thumb
Heed to the behest of compromise
Or the will of truth?

– Ajise Vincent

editors note:

Achieving divine democracy requires grace. Please, tickle my scrotum. – mh clay

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