God's chosen children visited us,
Told us the path we seek,
The road to salvation
Hides amidst the pages of their ancient code
Their God was a whimsical ruler.
Actions and abstinence,
Obedience to his utterances,
Was the way to reach his abode
God's treasured off-springs told us,
Gospels and miracles open His door
But my God never needed a Messiah,
Nor an iron hand or tomes of tyranny
My God always spoke with me,
Through its creations,
And the beats of my heart
All of it marches to the Almighty's tune
But for the white man,
And his sacred books,
Us savages needed saving.

YOU ARE READING
A budding writer's collection
PoetryJust a bunch of poems written as and when I feel to write them