After the cowries of divinity
Had been cast on the bare soil of my soul
My shame came like a naked man
Chasing purity with three stones.
I have torn the veil of trust and
Sunk the fragrances of modesty;
I have winded the words of wisdom
With the air of hisses driving through my lips.
You might decide to walk me away
From the land my fathers left me;
You might drag me to the marketplace
Where children spit on my destiny;
You might take me to the river
Where the goddess sucks the blood of divers;
You might desert me in the cold hands of this jungle
For ghouls to tell tales of surplus sustenance;
You might bury me with my faulty choices
Under the shed that covers my fame;
You might tie me to the roots
Where midgets of giant dreams rot.
When the night comes,
Leave me and my blood stained purity
To tread this lonely path in filthy solitude.