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In the belly of struggle,
Integrity is thing of the humble
Compromise runs through heart's hurdle
With little or nothing to rekindle
Hustle is the order of the day,
Be it legal, illegal, doesn’t matter the way
So far it pays
And puts Boss the happy way
The street is cold
The city now bold and its hold
Intriguingly feasting on several working souls,
Even under the Sun's scorching scold.
When it rains, it pours.
Young lives have their visions blurred.
Souls wasted to counted scores
Resulting from Foes' counter of scars’ score in
retaliation galore.
Mother growl in anger of distance
When pain unbearably pounce
Holding firm with memory thorns
Holding firm with memory thorns
As it imprints wounds deeply, on her heart burnt!
Mates grow cold
Ready to confront the Odds
Against the saying "Revenge is best served
cold"
Frat' war is about to unfold.
Smiting, with the prowess of Powder
Sniffing the nostrils, for the crave of Power
To attain the impossible.
Maim, kill, spill, blood, yet with chuckles.
What a Bush of ills!
A center of shaky gravity
To arrive a "revered" status.
For an unprecedented nucleus?
Sins in filthy scenes
Spills of Reddish substances
As they, in turn sip the calabash-ic liquid
Gbosa! They share the spoils in minutes.
And when gravity parboils
The center goes sour
The mad jargon they spake in turns
Swimming down their loins...
The out-casted fallen one with horn
Has successfully, to the youth, done
Convince, confuse, confiscate their consciousness, dead to the core,
Caging their hearts with his lures.
In his lures, victims bled.
Engrossed in the passions of Lust, their love fled.
Their Souls shed tears of life held.
They've lost their way to divine Shed
Ah! Lad turned Lass, Lass to Lad
She, she, He-he, what's good now turned bad
The sun has grown cold; the moon now bald
The world has grown sad.
Ghandi's eye for eye
Will only make the world go blind;
Is not believed by some. Revenge, missiles,
Violence, only makes the world go round.
'Getting high only makes you see clearer
Being a mob will not get you robbed,
Initiated into a fraternal brotherhood is even
better'
Are inspirations from the fallen ones with horn
It was said, it has been prophesied
It was heard, recorded in the Holy Book.
We've read, the thought had us terrified
But yet, in his lures, Men are still getting
hooked.
Ears are blind, Eyes are deaf,
Confusion deep root-solid in our planet Earth
Man has self destruct
We need a divine saviour that will come, re-construct.
The land pregnant with destructive sorrow
Raped by the out-casted fallen with horn and foes.
Is in labour and will born soon of tomorrow.
Divine Saviour, come! come rescue us from this Soon of tomorrow.
Come, be our shield and fortress
When this tribulation is finally born to oppress
Oh, Divine Saviour take us to your rest
When your trumpet sounds and souls are ushered to
your nest.
END
Written by: Bankole Kolawole
Edited by: Bamgbade Adetoyese
NB: For clearer understanding of this, go back to part 1 by clicking this link: http://linesandlyrics.blogspot.com/2012/12/lethal-painspart-1.html
