God Sees All | Shadrach Okpanachi | Poetry

  ‎Torn — under the watch of eyes and ears, ‎A miracle stinging like an early grave, ‎Full of earthquake and quiet, ‎Conceived by fashionable colours of hate and misguidance. ‎ ‎It’s their songs that scare me, ‎Words carved from boiling blood, ‎Chewed with salt and ravaging disgust, ‎I look at my hands and see […]

God Sees All | Shadrach Okpanachi | Poetry
  ‎Torn — under the watch of eyes and ears, ‎A miracle stinging like an early grave, ‎Full of earthquake and quiet, ‎Conceived by fashionable colours of hate and misguidance. ‎ ‎It’s their songs that scare me, ‎Words carved from boiling blood, ‎Chewed with salt and ravaging disgust, ‎I look at my hands and see […]