The veil over their eyes,
In the early hours of today,
The bright sky swallows not,
The thin silver line,
The clouds stand somehow,
somewhere, scattered,
Awaken in life,
Disturbed, interrupted,
A being made of clay,
Of sperm and of sand,
In search for the truth,
Deserted her home,
Her dwelling,
In search of salvation,
With her wealths and riches,
Her power and might,
She journeyed trough the thick bushes,
Alone, All alone,
“Messenger is God,God is a messenger” A man said,
What a statement!
From a confused being,
That’s not all,
She also learnt about the existence of a small God,
O! Ibitoye claimed to be a small God,
And that young man, Reuben!
Oh my dear Reuben said “The spirit of God moves on water”
Perhaps this venerable moment,
Will pass slower than slow,
PERHAPS NOT!
Let he who knows Reuben tell him;
He is barking up the wrong tree.
He who knows Ibitoye should tell him;
He’s only playing the devils advocate.
And Isang!
Tell Isang to hold his horses and,
Listen to a home of truth
Isang;.You the man, in disguise
Telling white lies about your love For ACADIP,
Saying we are born from the sky,
Just to have a dialogue with us.
“We are no good” we admit once more,
Defaming other’s Lord,
Is what you use to achieve fame,
A scene of squalor!
A scene of shame!
But then,
Go!
Go and settle the case,
You said you have against Allah,
And if you win,
Come back to the servants of Allah,
Come back and grind an axe with them,
That’s if you really are brave.
Imagine that veil;
The hard layer,
Around your heart,
Over your eyes,
On your soul,
Slowly crumbling,
Falling off,
And meeting your lord with a smiling face.
I am not a masquerade, I am Amori Lateefah (Dream)
A believer in her chosen faith and respecter of others
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