PHILADELPHIA- Chukwuemeka“ Deus” Njoku
You speak into a hollow You speak the reverberating sound of a barrel thundering down a vacuum only travelled by echoes that tumble in protest against the orphaned trip to the deep You speak to mortals clattering like expended bullet-cases on the granite floor of a death cell Your words, Mumbled sounds to yourselves But jarring yells in the ears preferring the silence of the grave You speak liquid words Words drawn from bottles that smell of smoked ice
Harvested cells transform to cold raging words They yell Now the nonchalant syringe fails to mediate a tango between dead muscles and expunged cells Recalcitrant spines refuse to embrace acids arriving from alien lands You assemble your team and brush them queer Bold strokes of confusion They travel through routes winding in the slithers of still waters Waddling through watery graves Persuading relatives who have to kiss reluctance to lose their tooth of suspicion whilst chewing on the thought of sending cadavers to a god appropriating desperate powers to itself
Chukwuemeka“ Deus” Njoku
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