Tempest Poem by Tosin Abegunde

Tempest

A breeze of transmogrification,
Like that of Jero metamophorsis,
In the rugged struggle for realism
When the ruled escapes the ruler.

An air in Abacharistic days to some
That keeps hope alive for few,
Having enthron'd an akin to regal,
Which hereafter enslaves a nation.

A turbulent wind for the covicted,
Spreading their dirty linen opened
To reveal the true saint and stain.
Loyalists, with awe'll, confounded.

Its stormy when the dawn dies off
Keeping 'morrow security at stake,
As determined by the unforseen
That weakens the strength of ages

Whirlwind it is in matrimony
With breed of confused orientati'n
Clashed with empathetic interest
Associated with long suffering.

Should I call it a stright tonardo?
Stripping us of constitutionalsm,
Before the bamboozled masses
By the the Gavelist and Aso rocker.

A tempest it is before the church
When the trumpet shall sound
To assemble the sheeps and goats
What a dreadful day that'd be?