Isn't God the game owner?
He holds the game pads always in his fist,
human shock-wave, controlling with analogue,
as far as I know, the best arcade he loves is 'Here',
our game is of mission and adventure,
here is where fiction turns fact,
game characters suffer; the player being fatter.
The first pad lies in the hand of enlightenment,
civilization almost spree our lives for free,
it controls our step, its praises we yel'd,
in the game menu looms helping object,
the likes with which it splits our milk,
customs and inventions,
fashion and lifestyle,
objects at helping plane,
hence it blocks our way,
yet we seeketh for;we pray.
The twin pad lies in the hand of the rulers,
ruling in dimension, controlling different mission,
they purport us to make believeth their moves,
jilted-we were miscontrol'd, after our support,
nearly damage were the pads, out of misuse,
after lifelines were wasted, they go for a re-do,
we only beseech for control,
by the Holy Comptroller;
the game owner.
The game plan is a way to success drive;
through the controller,
on the drivers seat; their you are,
deliver us from our horrible past.
On the northern pole of the game planet,
hides a bunch of nitwit exchanging pads,
behind them were gross of followers,
ready to take over,
a dreadful arcade they engulfs,
spiritually engross'd,
explosives were project'd to monasteries,
cult scholars were kill'd,
underworld gates wide open,
free passageway,
people strive to defy,
heavenly rays shone,
appear'd in beams,
characters hate the realm,
comptrollers were laughing and popping,
the control'd were weeping,
their legs were tired,
eyes swollen,
after losing main amulet,
even limited game features,
left to meagre diets,
light off please,
quickly; rapture.
Hail the hybrid players of the south and oily poles,
atleast they did a great deal,
money vault of the planet,
or we station'd our bank in their purse,
they griev'd, cried;
Our habitat were like toilet,
we've been cheat'd',
heaven was promised to them,
then their controllers disconnect'd,
believe me, they regroup'd,
purchased a wireless pad,
they drive'd from afar,
setting our plans apart.
See the amperage of our electric game,
watch the screen;
many with pails of wails,
half fill'd; holy shit!
Their game plan is on demo; no controller,
wandering till I might call,
solely solitude,
needn't you to wisen up;
apply aptitude.
Ample proofs witness'd our gluttony,
we held different controller, direct our game,
yet many surburban brats loot away our fame,
fear shall be mortgaged for courage,
whilst dream encouraged,
inferiority shall depart the coward,
before the game is OVER.
By:
YUSSUF QOYUM OLATUNDE
Edited by: Moses S. Olarotimi
Name: Yussuf Qoyum Olatunde,
Nickname: Multiintrinsic,
Pen name: Wizard Calidad,
D.O.B: October 24,
Mobile No: 08073596948,
Author's Info:
PROFILE
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