THOUGHTS.

If evil were good
and courtesy were rude.
If truth were false,
would that affect your pulse?

If heaven were earth,
would it pain your heart?
If facts were lies
and fools were the wise.

If rights were wrong,
would you sing the same song.
If days were nights
and darkness were light...

Questions without answers...
the candid cure for cancer.
I'm lost in my thoughts;
my conscience has not been bought.

If there were no religions,
would you change your opinions?
Questions for a mass burial...
prepare for future memorials.

Lanre Badmus
January 2018

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SUBMERSION.

The sun still struggled in the snow.
Her efforts, no one can actually know.
Definitely, she detests the word defeat.
Winning is always her coveted feat.
An intention invariably and intelligently stated-
The sun doesn't want to be relegated.
She tried raising her head above the waters.
But her feat never fell short of filthy falters.
The snow silently soiled her face with her complexion.
Total domination remained her intentions.
But the sun still struggled in the snow.
Her efforts, no one will forever know.

Lanre Badmus.
January 2022.

#thepoeticassassin #thepoeticassassinandhisaesthetics #sellingmississippi #poetrycommunity

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THE SUN AND AN AISLE.

The sun seems not to make a single statement.
An apparent approval of winter's establishment?
Her silence sounds like the clash of swords.
Wishful whispers from quiet words.
With pride, Winter sails across the skies.
Her confidence candidly made of ice.
The sun seemingly keeps her ideas to heart.
Winter is the lastest bride of planet earth.
At the moment, the sun won't be walking the aisle.
A situation that will surely remain for a while.

Lanre Badmus.
January 2021

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MIDNIGHT SNOWFALL.

Beauty skillfully sniffed through a snowfall.
Nothing negates charm when nature calls.
The vivid falling of the sky's grey hairs.
Perfection persistently purifies the air.
Morning with an explicit expression of enchantment.
Nature revealing a part of her endowment.
The cascades of snow in attractive rows...
still, I silently stare from my slide window.
It appears lovely and I can't look less.
Attraction is all I covet, I must confess.

Lanre Badmus
January 2022

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Lanrebadmus(The Poetic Assassin)

Lanrebadmus(The Poetic Assassin)

A legal practitioner being tormented by the spirit of writing. I abuse the intake of poetry like a banned drug.