Vanity.

All I see is vain thoughts,

Everywhere it is all about,

Futility pretending to be tangible.

Like the cockroach,

Trying to rival the elephant,

All parading themselves as supermen,

Their obulagata devoid of the great knowledge,

The knowledge of the submission hour.

Everywhere, there is loud voice of clamoring

And shouting.

Mortals devouring mortals,

As I stand at the river bank of my own path,

I recall the words of the wise one,

Vanity upon vanity,

All is vanity.

Written by: Johnson Paul Shadrach

Tel: 080 69084971