Clothe in Vacuum
Walking through the valley
Of the shadow of dry death
I behold evil in a state of sorry
As he sent away every mirth.
Looking at the mountain of old
I saw a fattened desolation
Let out a wry smile he’d sold
To purchase our folly in admiration.
The head of the fish was clothe
In vacuum like a tree stripped of
Its bark in winter and to breathe
Became difficult for it to surf.
The misty cloud’ll vanish soon
And all will leave their cocoon.
Bard Tosin Morakinyo