Poetry: The Initiation


Wretched waters collected from different sources
Then a noble hand leads you to an oasis
Command sprouts in different complexion
Causing an aberration

Raise your hands, pull off and kneel
No words from you, not even an appeal
Do as they say
Though your thoughts may wonder asea

You are drenched with the liquor
Slaps, kicks and the blows of a wicker
The halt welcomes you to the game
No more exclaim, but fame and a maim



Whether it be a word,
Incisor of the sword,
Or allegiance to a Lord
Be sure it’s a right rite!

In quest for nature’s dame
With beauty of unseen name
However goes your game
Be sure it’s a right rite!

If desire to flesh a glory
For skeletons of your story
To live eternal in history
Be sure it’s a right rite!



Echoes of voices
Sounds of terror
I lost my choices
To this oath of horror

Darkness had its glow
The night was flawless
The chants hummed in a solemn flow
My heart raced helpless

For by this sacred act
I am caught in the belly of evil
Gripped by sin so fact
By this initiation, my fall is even



The rite of passage
Is no feeble adage
Tis engraved with the glory of old age
Initiation is sometimes like a cold cage

Frozen thoughts heating with dark and gloom
Most times when the word in our heads make room
But is ignorance not the ultimate boom?
Mine the largest loom

Initiation Is a necessity
A pass to the golden city
For water begets God’s pity
Baptism is in itself initiation-now that’s witty


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