Plea | Ayiyi Joel | Poetry
They say wherever the oká sits, its meal finds its way to his doorstep. This day, Ògún, let my steps not lead me to the threshold of that which longs for my blood. For the road has a hungry mouth. I’m still in the dawn of my green unravelling life. I’m just starting out, an […]
Black News 
They say wherever the oká sits, its meal finds its way to his doorstep. This day, Ògún, let my steps not lead me to the threshold of that which longs for my blood. For the road has a hungry mouth. I’m still in the dawn of my green unravelling life. I’m just starting out, an […]
