29th September, 2015 Writers

When will the goat marry the sheep’s offspring?

When will the snake develop hind legs?

We shiver with shrieks from death chambers 

He says they are laughs from children at play

Our agitations got to the soul

They decided they’ve all had their fill

We decided to take to arms

We ask the tyrant:

When will our chains be destroyed?

He says:

When there are fires in the land 

Hot enough to melt their links

 Let’s call in the blacksmith I say

Let’s forge with our minds 

And deliver with our mouths 

And defend with our hands

Then we will be free from the tyrant

But first our hands had to be burnt

Our feet had to get swollen

Our teeth have to ache us.

If our own eyes 

Had not seen in broad daylight

The things the tyrant has 

Here disclaimed on oath

We would believe we dreamt it all.

Indeed, even now

Under the heat of his blaring gaze

The benign indulgence of his smile

We are not so sure-

No. we are

He says we are had 

All gone out of our mind

If madness breeds lucidity

God, make us mad-

Make us even madder

For in the hollow of our darkness

We have felt

The wailing of a strained heart

The turbulence of a troubled soul

A spirit refusing to be drowned

Even before conception.

A continental pride, a black nation

A good future borne through struggle 

A regional light, an emulation

A hunter’s trigger, the farmer’s gourd

Today’s hope, tomorrow’s dreams

 We’re a music band 

Dancing to different tunes

A twined Gunther’s chain 

Waiting for freedom

Thriving in the trade of deceit

A nation driven by passion

Despite selfishness we’re moving forward

Our unborn child is secured 

Our legacy will be passed on

Our desires would be fulfilled

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance

The waves beside them danced-but 


Out-did the sparkling waves in glee

Then our hearts with pleasure fills

There, in our black-blue vault we sail along

Followed by multitude of stars

In the clear moon

And glory of the heavens

Shouting the words of sweetness

Chanting the song of victory

Blowing the trumpet of royalty

For we are a glory 

Waiting to reveal its crown.

Kwara, Nigeria
  • We ask the tyrant of our freedom, we got a green white dream of the dawn age of glory

Average Rating

      Super Creative

Total Ratings 8

      Super Duper Creative 7
      Super Creative 1
      Creative 0
      Nice Try 0
      You can do better 0