Idiagbon Poem by Kris Atta Pappoe

IDIAGBON
Lucent clouds
Cottonwooling into
Extravagant shapes
Suspended between the Azure and
Ultramarine depths
Where beyond, He
Scrutinises the work of Man.
And, below in the black forest,
Man, his evil genius
Hacks brother down
And hammer and anvil
In underground vaults
Scheme the paeans of destruction
But He, where no evil may blend
Looks pitiful
Sad that beneath the
Glory of His presence
And the fields of peace,
Man in his blinding ignorance
Still, sits at the gates of wrath