It's another Sunday morning. In awe brother stood like a weary rose flower.
Dad yelled at him, Mom called him a "demon possessed being".
"You hate going to church" they chorused.
He feels he is not living right. He feels guilty when he goes to church. The Preacher's last sermon etched his name on a platter of thought.
"Shun all forms of immorality" yet the Preacher's tongue still rides on Sister Jane's body.
"Praise the rod! Praise the rod!!" the Preacher kept saying as her hole opens continuously.
Dad, the saint with a dirty garment. To the public eyes he is a perfect angel but behind closed doors he's a replica of the Devil. Mom, a troublesome woman yet a dove to the public.
Does attendance in church brand one a saint?
If so, the Preacher will be angel Michael.
He says prayers yet the very beast eating sister Jane's forbidden fruits. The road was smooth provided no eyes saw.
"Take all of me" were the lyrics of the song passing through the window.
It was Brother Johnson and Sister Mary.
Brother Johnson masturbates when he feels horny & Sister Mary, the sole destroyer of married homes. To the men, she was their stakeholder.
"Should I go with them?" Brother followed.
©Naphtali Festus Adda
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