CRY OF 'ABIKU'

CRY OF 'ABIKU' I rise from staggeredness with fluidy sensation flowing down my bosom I race down beneath the six feets, decked in garb of weirdness I manoeuvre round the wordly tripartite: the molten, the celestial, and the terrestial romancing the nights with failed destiny. I wax lyrically in deafening tone, the mantra of yesternight men let come my 'yeye abiye'; I beckon on my straying shadow, as the panicky wind blew down south. The future in my cold feet, a groan away from pleasure my dreams in a dying threshold just a hymn for the deads not the angelic night bangs but for the moment of mirths that rescue the saints from the worldly occults. Behold the forthcoming world I shall bury my vengeance in the hollow abyss, and wrap my days with dose of joy, with mound of ecstasy on my mother's chin, With dance of 'Iyaleta' in the village tabernacle Here comes the mysterious child Abiku! Ali Toyin Abdul is a director at Connecticus Creative Niche (Ilorin). He is an award-winning writer, poet and lover of anything Arts (photography, music and tourism). All rights reserved!