The Snare I Scaled Poem by Asaolu Abayomi

Merry merry sound
how tuning I feel
twisting my ribs
until a cutting sound
joyous in it
thrilled by the moment
exhilarated by the passion

A beam of the sight
blinded by the rhythm
seems the loudness affects too
once one's blood is joined
the snare leaked it till death
the glue irresistible
in passion I suffer
in pain I rejoice
pain after pain
my penitent lasts
so does my sane fades
my sane my bane
my passion my death row

Thronged to death
the snare caught up till dark
smiled to the grave
unfavorable judgement awaits
condemnation of the highest order
maybe I would have been
thronged to condemnation
but somehow
I scaled through
the snare was glued to me
but I am detached.