By Adeola Ikuomola
The storm ails rain story
Like a deliquent offender
As his floods' rated glory
Crashes off moral fender
He speaks like a wild lion
And listens like the grave
His heart is a blazing iron
Flame-taught to be brave
Bold penal books to read
Like the circumcised son
Like a scar-brushed reed
Held in a substantial sun
Old rays the sun has bred
For the sea waves reeling
On the flying loaf of bread
With lettered rain kneeling
Beaten his iron fists finer
As the dunes to the wave
When the signs read final
Loneliness grips the cave