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World of the Blind

World of the blind.
Mead of frail daggers.
Fortress of evanescent roads,
Bewitched by unknown passengers.
Racing through dark passages.
Like blind men reading blank letters.

Eight estate of this street
Dressed in phantasm and hate,
Blossoming flowers wilt
Scents of drumming war
Deluge, in the city of the sun,
Ticks of the hours cause fright
Dreams wane, vision sore As tides haunts hearts.

World of the blind
Inmates in the prison of their minds
Unkind fellows of fate
Lost in the stage of dust,
Like postmen with shallow hearts
Spoon-fed by the past
And the storms of the present.

Along the windy coast of savage
We rest at the edge of falling walls,
Bathed by the splash of ichor
Casting tears in tomorrow's bowl,
Horrible faces of this age
Eerie noises in rowdy streets,
Like casualties in uncertain markets
We are bruised, naked in life's paths.

World of the blind...
Prostitutes of ignorance..
Selling their virtue for coins of shame..
We walk behind,
Patriarchs of deliverance..
Hoping to gain repute..
By changing our surnames..

World of the blind,
Pleasantly behind..
Flowers that bloom in the harvest of fears.
We hope to find.. Our lost cute eyes.
In the stubble of recognition,
as we invent, new Lies.


World of the blind..
Our walking-sticks..
We trade in exchange for biscuits and sweets.
We sit on wheels of slavery to our minds.
Chasing our courage to mocking retreat


World of the blind..
Preachers of the tomb..
Moved by the dust that rises from the sea..
World of the blind..
Walk through and see..
Redemption drowned in the lake of defeat

And now you blind,
Open your eyes,
See the faith that now resides in your heart..
Renounce the norms
Take on new forms
Shutdown the old and from the new, restart.

© Danny El and Moses Chibueze Opara

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