Where are the gods?
I mean not the clowns that fill their empty breadbaskets.
But the deaf that hear the muted voice of a dying heartbeat,
And the blind that see a child of browbeat.
Like Amadioha in the east;
Sango in the west that spits in fierce fire when the cloud cries.
Are they dead or want what the living have?
To have the living in their mournful world.
Where are the clerics?
I mean the one that transcend to metaphysical;
Speaking to the gods in unkempt tongues.
The shamans and the witches;
The prophetic prophets that switch
Are they tired of sacrificing to the after life?
Like a tree, shedding its drying clothes,
Faded to the life after like a burnt Cloth
Where are the humans?
I mean the family of hominidae.
Like bats in twenty folds, they shattered and scattered the lands.
Dying of their ungodly attitudes or maybe the gods also lack attitude.
For the penury rejoices in the multitude misfortune of the rich
As the rich abuzz to empty multitudes.
‘Where, where, where?’