Framed Odysseys.....

Pray me, for a very last chance Jesus I beg,
For the last sight of your image.
As the hawks circle in for their meaty morsels,
Flaunting their shamelessness, spraying their tea. 
Storms had risen with rage like international conflicts,
And even Ruth never mourned long before finding love..... 


The zombies screaming blood, doing as they're told,
Are waiting to see my soul behind the gates of the blast furnace. 
Framed odysseys are serpentine Jezebels with prying eyes,
Spewing blasphemies arrogantly at Jehovah's face.
They are the white owls drinking bile from emerald pipes,
On their lips are smeared the sins of saintly souls.

Spare me Lord from the dance at Golgotha, I begged 
Were the blameless are gruesomely murdered;
And sacrificed to the gods of the day, Lords of the bottom dwellers. 

The melted music of the psalms their unfortunate victims miserably recited,
Was the first they sipped through their nostrils,
Before pouncing on their stenchy morsels, 
That have now vanished with the wind. 
Their docked souls inbetween the intolerable molten core.
  
On that stretch of Judgement paradise; the hottest 
It got to my turn and I experienced the same fate 
Got crushed into obscurity, a life of fruitless endeavors. 
A journey twenty-something years long, on the throne of desolation. 

I thought my 'candle' had been exhausted, 
Perhaps Jesus felt something else about me, 
He felt I should not die in the circumstantial manner like Samson did. 

My life was the atlas of miserability an whirled around me was the dark greyness's of wretchedness. 
My body was a topography of lacerations and deep cuts, 
And my breath had been twisted through the invisible illness of bipolar. 
I saw only red lights, blood had gushed to my eyes.

Satanicas getting ready to spray me with R.I.Ps 
Jesus also prepared to flood them with the fire of the holyghost, 
Gripped by fear they took to their heels.

My framed odysseys was his life saving question,
breaching the impact of the darkest chapter of the half moon 
"Do you still belong to them"?, 
 "Not any more, Jesus", I answered quipped with fear 
Transcending from the sorcery of the throne of desolation, 
To the Kingdom of Light, inhering sonship and wealth!
  
Writer: Babatunde Modupe
Pic Credit: Goggle images