Unrest Soul: Churchgoers Poem by Vincent Onyeche

With millions of congregation
Dancing from corner to edges
As the choristers sings; rock of ages
-With sweet surrender voices
Curative surely is for the deaf
To the left, surprisingly my twin-wings swings
Not intentionally or by the act of the whirling winds
Nor the hatred in the tune or song she sings
But for the entire things the bible call sins
Looking through their eyes
I see ruthlessness in their hearts. 

I see things heavy for an angel's eye
Swiftly I swerved my eyes up and down
To the shining roof and floor
And then the well-furnished temple
There goes a rhythm
"Ride on pastor"
  
The preacher perspires right on the alter
Blessings with no curses he dispenses
The sermon he delivers has the power

"Time is near, change from your old ways" he warns
My white eye turns red
"Emotional" you may think
But the words he says
Are falling into the ears
Of a wrong parishioners

In the middle of a million worshipers
The medley of loud thoughts
Hits my ears
Not even one of them all has a clear mind
The preacher also is a supporter of no just
Dear lord I'm outnumbered.