LINES AND VERSES

The true monsters are not the tough - talking, gun-totting, drug-dazed lunatics who foul the air in unworthy existence; the true monsters are those , who out of the abysmal depth of their baneful hearts, the demons are spawned; the true monster will talk sense when need be, empathise when need be, join a crusade when need be; the true monster's mask is honorable, his embrace is warm, but his gift to the bereaved does not measure to the sacrifices to his demons

Vain pleas, rended homes, Mangled bodies, up in flames! Wasted fleshes, unrested souls. Vacant faces, grief-stricken faces, We look on: swiftly ended races! Lives like ours, hours before. Gleeful, the monster bays, Dares justice to raise its tail Dares justice to raise its tail Jude Ifeme

It pours on the roof of the house, His heart pounds on the roof of my mine, He'd flinch at every lightening and storm; It's OK, I'd whisper, It's just another rain. As a child I'd beat every storm home; See the apocalypse in every dark cloud, No one dare sent me out when it rained Or whenever its promise laddened the sky. Of all the traits I share with my son, This would be one I'd rather take away. Though my ombrophobia is long gone, His has just begun. Jude Ifeme Pic source: photobucket.com