I see the look on tomorrow’s face
She’s heard the news as well.
She’ll tell my mother with compelling grace
because she’s never heard of hell.
Today says it’s in the pain
And finds drugs to that effect
Then blames it on the stain
That comes with embracing reject.
Tonight says it’s like a cunning cancer
But i’m afraid, that is not the answer.
It is a starving mother
whose baby sips from a gutter.
It is a love that dies
After promising to live.I guess love lies.
It is living in a prison free
without bail or a breath-ceasing fee
It is church misguided
It is scripture scraped and then provided
One leg in the oven
The other in the fridge
Sitting on the edge of time
Hating to love
Loving to hate
This earth full of rain and shine
And a compulsion to choose
I tend always to exclaim
What the hell
Hell had started burning while we were kids
Sometimes it tasted sweeter in the church.
While our mother’s whip helped our good deeds
Candles burnt our hearts during mass as a torch.
There were days the devil came with a lie
“I will build you wells with water” he would say
when he took over the seat, death became high.
Our ignorance were receipts during the day.
And in Church they asked me what is hell?
As if it is different from offerings that ring the bell.
Hell has been many in every shade
sometimes it is foreign or locally made.
Jesus had died many times to save me,
but honey exists where the Queen is a bee.
Sometime ago I found it in my words
trying to be sleek and stabbing like many swords.
We were made with clay but different spits
I guess you can also tell what hell came from which pit.
I felt the breathe of fire
Scared for a moment, I stared
The cooling steaming kiln.
Is this where sulphur burn?
A place so serene but cruel
Gathering guest of lost souls
Singing in tunes of soothing pain
As wind dries the tears in my vein
This is one hell of a season!
A famine that caused the death of peace.
If this be hell,
I drove myself down here.
Ignore my trails and walk your path
For I disregarded all cautions
Until I got to the pit end
With one turn left, I’m right again.
My decision is hell’s parking lot
Will I still burn?