They say they hunger for truth,
Yet, won't shove it down their throats;
Show them the truth with true roots
And they'll call it truth my foot
.
.
Nurse them like the plants to shoot
And they'll pick up guns to shoot,
Offer them the safety boat
And they'll start loosening bolts
.
They coat grace in black suits,
Gratify self with what soothes,
Darken plain truth like soot
And make up the word till it's worldly cute
.
Toxic Rhema; no real tooth
Spreading fast like from Bluetooth,
Square roots bearing no fruits;
A walk without the Spirit's boots
.
As the devil tries to loot,
Let the watchman play the flute;
For the lying owl's hoot
Will never make truth mute.
.
Title credits: Oghosa Anthonia Imayuse
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