titilayo sunday (lagos)

The spirit of cholericism
Is what he needs to fit
The challenges of reality
That fades upon him like sweet tits
The zeal to accomplish
No matter the rivers below the bridge
So far he keeps going
No emotions draws him back
For he's above the lash of heart
To prevent him from his quest
He decides to be heartless
Through the path of his dwelling soul
He sings the song of wealth and gold
For he believes in physical
And not in anything natural
For he seems adamant
In any path that he treads.