1. To the Apostle of Killing Degeneration <br /> <br />Thunderlight had startled your eyes like an ape’s, <br />and the ministers you ushered into a dungeon <br />as if drugged by your doctrine of cool degradation, <br />(elsewhere in the Sundarbans it’s thought about <br />in frightened honey-collectors’ sagas of conquest) : <br />as bad omens like numerals dawned on your eyes, <br />emasculated hopes dwindled and clogged you <br />all, all of you at every ill-starred turn you took. <br />Confused as you were, you preached coves’ <br />struggle as futile in that Delta’s thick mangroves, <br />not the evils degenerated spirits and the militia did <br />nor the lilt of a calm neurotics syncopated – <br />the pilgrims of indifference limping by inches; <br />Lord, you drove back through Purgatory to Hell. <br /> <br />2. To the Apostle of Absolute Malice <br /> <br />All of a sudden like a swarm of African killer-bees, <br />you came up buzzing all around me harshly – <br />the diamond-hard apostle of absolute malice, <br />the lord of the scoundrels, of bloody scavengers, <br />and of curt diplomats in the ministry of malice. <br />Yes, it was the unruffled air that filled with vowels <br />and consonants slaving at your arrival. I felt <br />fear banging down my spine, and saw your eyes, <br />blood-shot and always eager for the kill, <br />watching me soak my glittering sweat with a towel <br />and resting by sorrows and grief – my allotted sacks. <br />Later as I sank under the weight of one big sack, <br />a grin on your lips bloomed like a white lotus; <br />Lord, it’s so kind of you letting it flash like a flower.<br /><br />Sofiul Azam<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/apostles-of-the-new-age/
