A Web Of Ruin Poem by Adeosun Olamide

There are times- the emptiness is no pain
That food seems to drift its sail
Times belonging to the onset
For soon the emptiness becomes pain
And nothing hinders- its devouring
The times silences are like noise
Like gore the peace becomes
Our dark is invaded and we are evicted
Those who carry the burden knows-
Them that seek escape finds
And- aye the contemplation begins

Slowly-the swing takes to and fro
The grave seems a shelter from fire
And we that see- run in its bosom
Those that don’t saunters in its gape
The grave dwells from storm
And we that see- run in its warmth
Again those that don’t- are swept to its gape
But always- there is a web of ruin
For the subscribers- in our embrace
That torn us in its pieces
And scatters us in its unending torment

But no longer do our cherishes mocks us
Nor do our emotions comes failing
And no longer are our sayings heard as vain
Nor is our body married to the bed
And like pleasure- the unending torment bestowed
When compared to the state we from