XXII. The Chalybeate Lexicographer
He mines the stygian seams of Yoruba lore,
To forge a syntax of adamantine weight,
A hermeneutic and unbending door,
Against the kakistocratic hand of fate.
With sesquipedalian storms of visceral ire,
He shreds the integument of the comprador,
Refining Ogun’s ancient, ferric fire,
Upon the rubricated, lithic floor.
No plebeian phrasing stains the parchment’s face,
But convoluted threads of mercurial grace,
Mapping the topography of a fractured race,
From his sovereign and stratospheric place.
A monolith of polyphonic light,
Shattering the stasis of the stygian night.
Amidst the chiaroscuro of the Open Sore,
He drafts a palimpsest of trenchant wit,
A theurgic and unsubmissive roar,
Where the atavistic and the modern sit.
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.
His prose is a thicket of thorny delights,
A cacophony of polyphonic grace,
Illuminating the long, Peninsular nights,
Of a discontinuous and fragmented race.
With ossified resolve and syntax grand,
He remains the sentinel of the wasteland.
XXIV. The Nonagenarian Syzygy
As the 2026 horizon burns with ichor,
The Lion holds the metaphysical vane,
Dismantling the junta’s hollow liquor,
With a talismanic and maximalist strain.
He is the sentinel of the marrow’s truth,
A polymathic and iron-willed seer,
Fusing the ancestral fire with radical youth,
To purge the visceral residue of fear.
The road is a labyrinthine snare of sparks,
A liminal passage of shards and of staves,
But he breathes the rarefied, stratospheric darks,
And mocks the silence of the unmarked graves.
A monumental mind, an Ogunbound sun,
Whose lexical conquest has only begun.
The cycle of five hundred proceeds into the visceral depths of his dramaturgical masterpieces. We should now focus the maximalist lens on the syncretic tragedies like The Bacchae of Euripides or the satirical bite of his political broadsides?
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