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By Ekanpou Enewaridideke

In every struggle there are bruises and blessings as are bruisers and brutes.
The bruised are not only those bruised by bruisers
The bruisers and the brutes are as well the bruised.
The bruised are the losers but the bruised are not the only losers.

The true losers are those who sold and lost their integrity in the game.
The circle of the bruised is a treeless ocean, wide and multi-coloured in look; yet, echoed here are not the bruised of Achebe’s Anthills of the Savannah.
Only the bruised known to the bruisers and the brutes are echoed here.

You may not like it.
You may like it, but
there must be judgement after everything.
So we went and waited for the first judgement,
Minds more on the held waiting second sacred judgement.

Like everyone we parroted our passion for you ,good-intentioned.
Only bruises and brutes came for us on the harvest day, the blessings waiting nearby with lips hermetically sealed, awaiting the second sacred judgement.

A loser always a brother of bruises and brutes – brutes that bring bombs to brutalise the bruised even after the claimed harvest.
It pays karmically when bruises and brutes are held at bay after the harvest.

The bruised, bruisers and the brutes must be partners in the politics of smiles after success and loss because tomorrow is befogged …

The loser a brother of bruises and brutalities on the boat in the brook.
The loser bombarded by mouth-bombs bundled to denigrate the diminished.

The loser deafened into a dance of denial of the denigration brought by the diminishment.
For the loser bombs begin a dance of denial detonated from dawn to dusk until the cycle ends its orbital journey when joys lose their charm in cycle-cessation.

It is always the story of denigratory dance whenever a manatee goes upland.
It is always the story of denigratory dance whenever a whale goes aground.
It is always the story of denigratory dance whenever a forester is stung by wasps.
It is always the story that denigratory dancers do dance but only once and no more, waiting for another song yet to be encored and played.

Bruises bring brutes who bomb the bruised with mouth-bombs fluttering triumphal wings.
Bruises bring brightness and benediction too because the loser is the bridegroom of bruises, brutes and blessings

Too blind to the cosmic bell we parroted our way into bruises
Too blind the brutes and the mouth-bombers bite the bruised with claims of tomorrow already claimed
The bruised and the brutal bruisers are all blind in this game only ruled by the cosmic bell.
So the bruised and the bruisers must be the watchmen over their words denied a seat in the cosmic kingdom
Still it must be cast like stone that a loser is a bridegroom of bruises and blessings hung cosmically until it is another dawn…

Barricaded the bruised now stands.
For the bruised, barricade is the barricade to new paths beyond barricade.
The awaited second sacred judgement is the supreme for the bruised so vilely barricaded in a world that holds its inhabitants no malice .

Even in a world that holds its inhabitants no malice…
The true losers are those who sold and lost their integrity in the game, not the bruised, the bruisers and the loser.

BY: Ekanpou Enewaridideke
Writes from Akparemogbene, Delta State.