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IT BEGINS LIKE A DROP OF WATER

By Adeola Ikuomola
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IT BEGINS LIKE A DROP OF WATER
It begins like a drop of water
With no stream lines to utter
It begins like the eyes far old
And future too dull to behold
The waves as brave warriors
Gallop in the warring mirrors
The rains sound like tin kegs
As shine broadens black legs
Suddenly there is a new page
Peace as in consuming stage
War abandons the spicy skies
For truths to swallow in styles
The sun hawks coal-born fires
Like lightning on brazen gyres
As the retreat-bearing pursuits
Right rays dine with wine fruits
THE LATE MIGRANT GHOSTS
The late migrant ghosts
Are pure horrible fellows
Like the turbulent waves
As horrifying fellowships
The self-seeking clouds
As raceless chameleons
Lack confirmed campus
Like the drunk drummer
For the fair electoral gifts
We bear chambering rifts
Upon the bleakly pumps
We admire rigged dumps
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