Writuer

  Serpents of lust Never in love. Eat their words And you hang in the sword Their sarcastic grin,  A shrouded act of the mind. Deeds are staged Acts are faked. The face that beams at your glance, Bears the tongue that defiles your ranks.  Get caught in their feat of deceitful symphony And you inscribe the epitaph of your melancholy.  Humans, yes humans! The harbinger of the devil The trustee of his evil.  Patrick Ekong ©️

The tax master With a big mantra A collector of sweat dipped in bl00d A clothe of misery stained and clots.  He collects with no remorse Mining without a refund, His debtors' wept As the tax master sleeps.  They toil to death While he grin at their sweat Cartoonist - Mike Asukwo Patrick Ekong ©️