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Vanquished brutally

The riches of the world, makes me humble
Yet, a new week brings a new fumble;
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

Thought I had substance, till devil prized me
Sheepishly am rigid up to my kneels
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

In hot pan but the wax refuse to melt
Obviously most wax gained many regrets
No way out for the candle in the wind
Finally, my village people wins.

The battle is lost in eyes of soldiers
Hence, I often look over my shoulders
Standing like a tree blown fiercely by storms
It seems like, my village people won.

Inside me rage builds ready to explode
Heavy heart, yet loads comes in like a flood
Sticking like a glue, blowing like a storm
It seems like, my village people won.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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