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The poem “unholy” defines the humanity religious race, and the hypocrite who leads our prayers in today’s word who we see as religious leaders. Whereas we see those who do not cover theirs as unholy and believe they are intoxicated with evil. Hence who are really the holy one’s.

Unholy Abba, this time hath come to strike me

Nearer my soul, O’ i am unholy, je suis impie!
In unending nightmare of a troubled world
O’ye who walk in mask of saints, innocent heart of evil

Alas, my impurity is not hid’en behind religion.
Father, I have formed bonds with my soul

under the sheets

Upon that little large tent of blue and white
Which its prisoners call the sky

Oh ye; blood and wine are red,
they make a man’s life

Where the bad ones are muster as saint

Alas, those good ones you ponder w’re roaring evil.
Dear christ! Nearer to thee and a taste of life, je suis impie

The Holy part of my soul has been
invaded and devour Je suis impie!

I’m what I’m; but you’re a shadow of the devil
With holy book, I walk evangelism with my soul in pain

Alas,I had sex, had cigarette in my mouth, and
they grumble I’m unholy Abba, o’father!
Too many hypocrite hath lead our prayers

We’re lost and been smashed for long by th’se
deceivers with a scarlet coat

The assembly of jinn, chained too many of there unrighteousness
Child of gaze, these knees bruised too much for long
I’m unholy,
Let me my sins. whom hath come to earth as the light?
Je suis impie, father! take away this cup from mankind.

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As a fourth of four in the family of four, a dramatist, poet, and a seasonal stage and film director, Buraimo Oloyede has written many poems and scripts both for short films, stage plays and for educational purpose. His works focuses on existentialism and the absurdism of humanity.

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