Dancers at the Gates

Dancers at the Gates

Now I speak of dancers

Treading the broad road in the dark

Contortionist to the winds of life

A corpse of hopes and dreams

Yes I speak of dancers

Bodies entwined on a bed of thorns

A rhythm of lustful gyrations

A volcano of soot and doom

Oh I speak of dancers,

With tongues of nail and heart of saws

Leaping in robes of hypocrisy

Sealing innocents with a gravel of judgment

There are Dancers

Feet in chains, hands in bonds

Rejoicing in the glory of slavery

Bowing to the lord of the belly

Now, I speak of dancers

Waltzing to the voice of creation

Warriors who divide truths

A small light which shines so bright

There are dancers

Break-dancers of faith

Who tread the path of suicide

To the life which death alone brings

Yea, we all are dancers

Moving in line with the singers

One song, two verse

Life a song, living a dance

Written by Omobolaji Olofinnika

Dancers at the Gates is a poem that outlines human struggles. There is one song, two verses, yet we all dance, each to a different verse.

The poem draws a departure between light and darkness, good and evil and seeks to draw our heart back to the real undiluted rhythm of creation.

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