HOME OF CREATIVITY

My soul hate you Your face is not an image For me to cherish Your soul sounds echoing For the beat I heard last In dream You light in night And dark in light But you fade all the time I see you Last time you called My soul hate you You life seems salty You're loved time ago You're hate this time alone My soul hate you.

I Found you!. You were there when the wind was blowing, I'm here when the sun was rising- Dancing when it was raining storm. I'm a coward! You are a macho... But you were there when my bones are fatigued With your muscles expanding towards work. Perhaps, You are the giant Alien? You have a big head and Your hands are folded. Your father is a traditional ruler Whose shrine was buried And praised at the courtyard. Are you Alarapa as said? I screened your name And found integrity. I squeezed your suggestions And found unlimited regret. I'm to tell you: Adekanbi passed away in his unripe age! He slept in the night of condom But failed to greet the dawn. Are you the Alien? The one Olugobi tagged the evil man of males... It is you Alarapa, I have found the Alien.

Man are you here for me? You came yesterday, Today you're here, You faked eyes With mask, You wore black shirt, Hold a black Goblet, Filled with white blood You loose shirt, You smell Arrogant! I can't be ! You can be! The evil soul of nature. Are you here for me? You hiss' And clap, Am not afraid I thought that's your passion, Until you dropped your says With boldness, And with darkness to darkened my mind. Are you here for me?

MIGHTY VOICE The frog were beginning their nightly chatter! A light breeze carried the aroma of wild night blooming Upon the mountainside. The reassuring thoughts were not lost, My barely heart shake. I grab the courage, As am in the ocean of Neptune. I heard the mighty voice I can't even doubt the voice. Just that i know How frog clenched their teethes to call their nightly chatter. My heart hold to bear,  I breath in golden regime deep and A hot air of nature  Turn my shirt to naked. Give and take frog said!!! I give!!! I take!!!

These days are Vile Wicked and Evil When dusk disappeared And beneath the western Horizon The time of Agony are not good when suffering is our war garment When we wry blanket with Agony sound. These days are Vile When we feel thirst And water is unlimited in corridor of suffering When pure are poor Our eyes were blinded Our hands & leg were influence When Our heart were shocked This days are not good When Our night were seized Our days are short and dig the secret of Our labour Time of forlourness When our arms were filled with punishment When Our striving are not rewarded These days are Vile For the evening of thunder strive when iroko is striking and moon resting on  shoulder of sun Time of eace invaluable When sun gust every minute of day For our body in hot  When our abode are sultry When Our ink dry in sorrow and applaud the episode of Zero and melancholy beat drum to dance These days are Vile

TIME BEING WASTED Ours is thee! The past being delayed, For our nerves to hear the deep sound of glory. When pods rings our pots, And we strike our palms for ignorance era. Our clocks works counterclockwise , When we read our days upside down, Dawn counted to down We sight light after night. We perceive our soul, Then! We realize Our Time being wasted Abundant Agony beat our foreheads When hairline deform the shape of our head Our palms discards and disposes the mission That Our grandfather plotted century ago We've have wasted time

We are Slave of Beauty what beautify us? Our grandfathers are not beautiful Our Great-grandmothers are not pretty We inherit our ugliness We are Slave of Beauty Inside us we are dark In Our life!  We've planted a black seed of irony  For our offspring to inherit We are Slave of Beauty When our days are not good  then The panicking is amended Our Arms are faded We are not lazy but we inherit ugliness our labour are not rewarded We are Slave of Beauty Suffering is our shirt and the the blanket we wry our body with We are Slave of Beauty we cant drive our thought to shiness All our nights are strict in the street We are Slave of Beauty.