On the Decline of heartbeats and

I wrote three stanzas
That disappeared like

An act on stage
And the actors are gone

Without a trace or hope of
Ever finding the funding

Fathers of religious maggots
Killers without hearts

Who lent theirs to
Naira, dollars and dirty coins

That has been rubbed on
Dirt that will never

Be clean. Ever again will heart feel
Nor beat at

The sight of imminent destruction
Our scars are seared

Bose