I've seen everything about it and I know
The space of colors and frames of dust
It's peace becomes epileptic when the sun wakes
It's true identity unfurls
The space is couth for It's colors
Walls are grey, and The Skies are blue
But The color of the frames of dust varies.

The space is controlled by love and paper
Love is the Mother, The Wizard drinks milk from Her bossom
The gods of space dominates with lucre
Publicans that traded love for lucre

The gods used power and paper to ail
The frames of the dust were subjects to wail
They were aroused by power, The clitoris was paper
Love the paper, resent Your Maker
They Failed to see the Limerick of this epic tale - Mr Okonji 💓.
#WET
© Mr Okonji