By Atok Dan
On a sailing boat, lies a log of a dead wood
Lying permanently on the wishes of glory seekers,
On wishes of sycophants
they adore it,
glorify it
But masses are dead logged behind the wood
No way but deadly lies their way permanently
Its removal negates their source of survival
It renders them a dry pasture
Its beneficiaries behave like scabies patients
Log of dead wood on a speedy boat,
an iceberg on a water highway
On Long Highland and Suez Canal,
On the Mediterranean and Pacific Ocean
Deterrent on a free flow of Nile water
Log of dead wood on a sailing boat is a liability to
progressing village
It hinders progress but glory seekers adore it
Adorn it with ornaments of a village
The wealth of a
village
An occupant of a rotten seat
Liability of a nation
On the mercy of ignorant masses
Log on a running dugout canoe on the Nile flourishes,
well amongst emaciated faces
Guided by a flock of wolves armed with swords of death
Only can they heed orders from a dead log
Only can they execute a flare
For they can only salvage in a mess of a village
A log of dead wood impedes the flow of ideas,
never applauded wealth
of wisdom at its reach
only can it swagger with pride in its own messes
in its mushroom-liked decorated attires,
guards flap their wings in an appraisal
it is the zeitgeist of selfish driver
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