Three Slaves and Time
The night has been doomed with words. The day has been wounded, and pains.
First Slave: the stillest hour as lay me half dead, the hours have been ticking on the negative side of my journey. I want to curse and rebel. For I want life but time recreate me in a womb of calamites.
Second Slave: Yours is better. I have dwelt half of my years in pains. My days have been growing in darkness. No weight. No light. I have swept and wept. The sky has rented my breath with pangs of stars. The nights and days are unfortunate on my side. Doom is time.
Third Slave: Pity me. Pity me. Pity my hairs grown unkempt beneath the lashes of the sun. My moon has decayed. I see no light. I have been drenched with pools of struggles. Time is nuts. It is a wolf.
Oh sons of Adam,
Do not abuse time
Do not curse the fate of time.
For Allah is Time—
The night & day.
by Onafowokan Taofeek Busayo