I hear the distant wail, what is wrong?
Who has fallen prey?
Not mine I
pray
I hear melancholy songs.
There lies my heart, there lies my
future, there lies my better half
On me death spat, what to do so unsure.
Why
go so soon?
Grey hair mourning
He paced about like a wounded lion
great was his rage it shook his loin
his step vibrated the earth
his voice scared even death
gallantly he strolled to the battle front
with grace and glee envied by the gods
he moved swinging his sword graciously
like the waist of a maiden
O Nigeria
A promising child in the day of yore
Palm oil,cocoa,cotton and groundnut pyramid a live-wire of extant
The booming flourish in the household of your three son
Who betrayed your prospect that envy your peers
A ghost of self you have become
The death of boom of day of yore
Awful land woe
A specter that hound for life again
-Who milked you dried
Devoured your oyster flesh and left empty shell
Who drove you blind and hurled you into darkness
Who amputate your feet and stagnate your pace
Who shrink your flesh and made you frail
Who starved your bloods and angered their spirit
Who made your loins half-lettered to despise goodness of letter
Who plant seed of discord to put your children asunder
