The journey; off the rail of fun,
Built upon the rock of affection.
Although, have never had one but,
Imagination paved the way to conclusion.
The warmth that dilutes in cold,
Taking the soul to the realm of orgasm.
By nature; was I clearly told,
A feeling of uncontrollable mannerism.
The force greater than gravity,
That winds even the clergy to and fro.
Down the feet, to feel the taste of vanity,
Conveying the soul from mercury to Pluto.
An exchange by batter,
Of virtues and spirits of damnation.
A collision of flesh in a canal Rhema,
The replace of divine glory; for vain story.
The mystery that imprisons the soul,
In the casket of spiritual pollution.
Itching many lives; baking a hole,
That can never be sealed except by salvation.
An adventure to the land called space,
That suspends lives within its web.
A penetration; that leads to protrusion.
An experience that latter calls for help.
In her absence,
She serves her flock with stimulative vices,
Keeping the nerves and hormones excited.
Creating a kind of emotional crisis.
Every thought about the sin; gets suspended.
She is a butcher!
That slaughters the soul on the slab of carnality,
Sharing the meats; among scavengers and demons.
Whose missions are to deceive many into the pool of vanity.
Detaining their virtues, within the gums of the Mammon.
A Modified 2016/10/24 Article
Written by Abolaji Abraham
ab.abolaji@gmail.com