TRAVAILS OF THE FIRSTBORN CHILD

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TRAVAILS OF THE FIRSTBORN CHILD - Commune Writers

Loud screams of pain that spread through the whole room,
Pervading everywhere but with a nocturnal gleam,
Cleansing the land as this entity comes out clean;
Clothed In blood,

For he was bath in blood and came from blood,
Through the fusion of the spermatozoa and the organic ovaries that make up this blood;
Jubilant- as everyone jumped in reverence to God,
Such a hyper feeling that earmarked the Genesis of travail for this newborn god.

The wail of the first child as it pierced into the nights,
Unaware of the sufferings that’d stay on for nights;
Time flows and darkness became morns,
Shafts of young soul became blown.

With the apple of momma’s eye fully grown;
Toiling in suffering to make a meager living,
Great disappointments hit him into crying;
For constant failure trailed him,

Yet he was so undeterred and unflinching that it never waned him;
Even though the sufferings be great and heavy to him,
With him embittered and angered at life,
That still didn’t lessen the strife,

For as the firstborn, he passed under the knife,
Trailing him until he beats the hell out of life.

More from the Writer: WHY SUICIDE?


Written by Essiet James
essyjamx550@gmail.com


 

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