The God's Cruel Jest
The Gods' Cruel Jest
The gods, in their wisdom, whispered lies,
Turned my thoughts into stormy skies.
Madness they gave as a bitter gift,
A mind adrift, with no anchor to lift.
At the peak of reason, they laughed and fled,
Leaving me tangled in webs I’d spread.
The path I walked was mine to choose,
Yet in their game, I was meant to lose.
Oh, folly, how sweetly you danced in my head,
Guiding my steps to where reason had bled.
The brink of ruin, a step away,
As shadows consumed the light of day.
In the mirror, I see the gods’ cruel jest,
A soul unmoored by madness possessed.
But in this storm, a truth is born:
To rise anew, one must be torn.
For when the gods seek to destroy,
They first offer madness as their ploy.
But from the ashes of such despair,
I’ll rise, rebuilt, with wisdom to wear.
Poet - Olanrewaju Ebunoluwa James
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