There is one ancient mystery
Shrouded alongside our human history;
It is one I cannot really explain,
The concept of it is hardly plain;
A burning inferno from a hormonal flame,
Something I fear I might not be able to tame.
This was prophesied by a certain Apostle Timothy,
The subject of this making up his evangelical symphony;
He preached about our innate lusts and fables,
Against giving our unborn generation more sinful labels,
Our ignorance has gone beyond the physical;
Who are we to avoid the spiritual?
The church today has been polluted by this act;
The compromise of this perversion poisoning our spiritual tract;
Believers being misled by the forbidden fruit,
Blindsiding ourselves from the apparent truth,
We have defiled our Christlike body,
A holy temple presumed to be godly.
Having failed to understand its perfect meaning,
Trying to grasp the humble beginning;
A design created by God alone,
Instituted deep in our human bone,
A plan set in motion against our fornication —
Put in place for a divine procreation.
Like all things in life, it has its cause and effect —
Balanced on a knife-edge for our moral defect;
On this sensual matter is time of the essence,
One wrong move, and we could lose His presence;
We eagerly wait upon our moment of marriage,
Unbeknownst to our spiritual miscarriage.
Excessive promiscuity leads to our derailment,
Exposing the wounds to our religious ailment;
Premarital sex causes our utmost severance
From the Almighty God we should hold in remembrance;
The abomination is enough to riddle our thoughts,
Plaguing our minds from the sins we would’ve fought.
Over and over I call for release,
To free me for once from this transmitted disease;
I admit with all shame that I had been rogue –
They said premarital sex is what's in vogue;
But the only thing left is to live with regret,
Ruing the day that our lustful eyes met.
I can’t even say when all this began —
This erotic fling between a woman and man;
Next thing I’m told is that there’s an infection!
Guess that night wasn’t built on perfection;
All I have now are these typical sores,
Clusters of them that are counting to scores.
This virus has taken my aura of peace,
Throwing me off my balance of ease;
So much talk on having a partner
One who I thought was to help on my matter;
It is only now I realize the gist of the damage,
Given one life that I can’t even manage,
It seems like the bad far outweighs the good,
Always something to put us off our heavenly mood;
What really else can a man avoid?
What must I do not to enter the void?
I’ve tried closing my mind to the world around,
Still, I find myself being held to the ground.
They say continuous prayer is the master key,
But so far the door hasn’t been opening to a servant like me;
All I desire is a solid foundation —
Something to stave off my life from damnation;
Problems on problems remaining unsolved,
Until I know my faith has dissolved,
They say continuous prayer is the master key,
But so far the door hasn’t been opening to a servant like me;
All I desire is a solid foundation —
Something to stave off my life from damnation;
Problems on problems remaining unsolved,
Until I know my faith has dissolved,
It’s hard to get rid of that filthy material,
Something that had my life in denial!
Sooner and sooner, it crept on my mind
Up to the point when my eyes had gone blind;
Slowly and surely, I get pulled to my trap;
Looks like I’ve run my ultimate lap.
Written by Akanimo Eyoma.
Inspired by book "100 Reasons why sex must wait until marriage" by Prof Daniel Olukoya.
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