By Chidi Anthony Opara
Paapa lies on the dust
Pushed by mutinous messengers.
Paapa's soutane
Is soiled by slew of dirt.
The multitude gathers.
The holy sea
Simmers.
The Princes,
Attired for conclaves
Stand and watch,
Waiting for another conclave.
The holy sea
Simmers.
To the mutinous messengers
Paapa mutters;
"Touch not the anointed,
Do the prophet no harm".
The multitude multiplies,
The mutinous messengers multiply,
The mutiny multiplies.
The holy sea
Simmers.
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