Scarredlines

Scarred not scared
Fetched after the genealogy
Of they that dances to the muse's pipe
After the order of those who thrives
In the coven of unseen transcendence

Their early dews drizzle with wisdom
their sun shines in glorious stanzas
I dance in the glory of my lines
I bask in the splendor of my art
The god's hath clothed me with words

Orisa Oke, let my ink rain in pleasant places
Eledua, let not my dancing pen, meet with Agbako
and if it does, sway away the evil eye from me
let me slither through like a snake will, on an anthill
A never ending well of muse, for all seasons that I may thrive

©Amudipe Opeyemi Marcus
Scarredpoet