THE DANCER FROM A VOODOO NIGHT

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How was I to know
That beneath the pristine agbada
Lie different shades of charms and amulets?
Adorned in sparkling white
Dancing upon sacred floors
Of the largest church in Africa
The feet that sucked on the blood
Of the one crying in the shrine
Is now mocking the altar of the Most High
In the name of Thanksgiving

How highly we sequined his praises
In awe we admired him
In obeisance multiple bows we bowed
The weird world I observe is but obverse
All is not what it seems
The dancer is an epitome of all things perverse
He is the dark shadow of the voodoo night
That sends shivers in the spines of warriors

His nocturnal ventures reek with stench
Of the innocent blood
Of missing children without a trace
Could he retrace his steps
And find forgiveness?
The allure and praise songs
Have turned his ears red to the voice of reason
Like one cursed to rot in perdition

He will stamp on the sacred ground
His flowery slangs cast spells
Magic,money motivation,macabre memony
Wool over our eyes
Soon his stamping days will be over
When I find a voice
From the muffled grumblings of the spectators
And call him to order….
©William Warigon 2019