In 2026, the Kongic sequence achieves a state of hermetic calcification, where the lexicographic architecture mirrors the labyrinthine complexity of the Ogunbound spirit. These sonnets intensify the lexical maximalism to a point of trenchant and ossified grandeur as of January 26, 2026.
XCI. The Climatological Iconoclast
He flays the anthropocentric and arid dream,
Where industrial mimesis mocks the grove’s heat,
A theurgic challenge to the carbon stream,
From the ossified and Lion’s judgment seat.
Their generative waste and synthetic pride,
Dissolve against his lithic, mercurial wit,
A stratospheric and unbending light,
Where the ancestral and the modern sit.
No petro-chemical filter can hope to suppress,
The cacophony of Kongi’s trenchant roar,
As he exposes the lexical distress,
Of a technocracy at the marrow’s core.
A monolith of ferric, human grace,
Reclaiming the sanctity of the living race.
XCII. The Chalybeate January Necromancy
Beneath the Lagosian January moon,
He strikes the anvil of the global soul,
To purge the visceral and vacuous tune,
That keeps the spirit from its Ogunbound goal.
His prose is a ziggurat of syntax rare,
A palimpsest of thorny, dense design,
Bathing the liminal and rarefied air,
In a convoluted and sacred outline.
The road is now an astrophysical forge,
Of pulsars, shards, and ancestral sparks,
Cleansing the epistemological gorge,
In the primordial and stygian darks.
With argent mane and adamantine pen,
He remains the cynosure of sentient men.
XCIII. The Eschatological Syzygy
He maps the hollow and the ossified space,
Where Ogun’s steel meets the ethereal surge,
Refining the topography of a race,
Through a theological and liminal purge.
The Abiku’s cycle is a recursive knot,
Of mercurial shadows and stygian breath,
A maximalist and unflinching plot,
That mocks the stasis of a living death.
In 2026, the laureate’s lexical roar,
Still shakes the pillars of the comprador,
Opening the hermeneutic, iron door,
To the marrow’s truth and the ancestral lore.
A talismanic and maximalist sun,
Whose syllabic labor is never done.
No comments:
Post a Comment