roasted dreams
ashes
the remains
of our burnt homeland
float in the skies
like flies at the libation
of our dracula gods
octopus smokes
striving for snatched
life sing a dirge
for a sacked homeland
in this homeland
it only rains blood
ashes are butterflies
crimsoned sands
saucepan of dracula gods
on her skin simmers
a feast of limbs and skulls
her skin is
a dessert of
our boiled hopes and
roasted dreams
——————————–
nip of dawn: peeled
uwa
i rot
like a sun
deprived onion
uwa
i’m a feast
to these hands
that never stop
peeling me
layer after layer
——————————–
Poems © Oluwafemi Babasola
Image: Pixabay.com remixed