The Legend Goes to Sleep

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Wrestling With The Gods

Wrestling With The Gods
              By Uche Samchel Enyiukpor

Masked with masculine drama
She swaggers and nods like the agama.
Tell the man: the woman rises
To take his place and crush his vices.

Now he must descend that she ascends;
She must stand that he bends.
She resolves to annihilate him:
     "Hey, we must domesticate him".

The gods decide to watch and wait
As she wanes in the bane of hate.
Outrun your god and run to death,
Even in your bloom and malicious stealth.

The West covets my norms and values,
And imposes true-lies without clues.
'What a man can do...' a thought from hell,
Gushing from the Queen where it dwells.

'And God made man in His image',
Hey, woman, deal with the message-
Made from man, a helper, not the master.
Tread the path gently and never faster.