It is shackles on my ankles,
My thoughts are tied to it.
I walk like a zombie on the streets,
my thoughts are troubled by it.

My hands are callused for it
my clothes are in tatters for it
My breath stinks for it
My skin cracks for it.
I indeed slave for it

But when I finds it
I would sing alleluia
I would dance for it
I would make it set me free

I would make it
even my cracked skin,
freshen my stinking breath,
replace my tattered clothes,
smoothen my callused hand,
it would indeed set me free.

Then it would be gone
in a tinkle of an eye
and I would again start
with shackles on my ankles
walking like a zombie
slaving for it.

For the alternative is deadly
Filled with vipers and lions
The alternative is to be helpless
To be alone and naked
And told not naked enough
To be left out in the cold
And thrown to the. Vultures.



4 thoughts on “THE CYCLE

  1. He is addicted to the short burst of pleasure, a moment of happiness that result of his anguish buys him. Even those that labor so little and earn so much of it still want more and more, that they would almost do anything to acquire it. I hope he reaches a state of contentment and realization that it cannot buy joy.

    • Yes life is a rat race. money comes money goes. Those that labour so little and earn so much of it still want more and more as you said. Which is why we need to run the race of life without letting the race become our life, lest we run in cycles.

  2. I admire the way you masked the object of this man’s desire, inviting the reader to look closely and try to figure out what it is. Of course, the first thing that came to my mind was money. As good as it is, man can also be enslaved by it.

    Brilliantly penned, Fikayo.

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