What can I say of the tales
Under the heavens
Where my earth is spread?
My tongue throne is vacant of words
My wheel power of speech
Has been short-lubricated
'Na only you waka come'
Could be laden with a confusing comedy
But yet hid not the truth
There is God o!
And the tears in a motherly cry.
The crushing strong faith
The shakings all around
Corruption like winged fiends.
Humans are now demons
Demons with good looks…
Death smells every where
Strong oozing deadly death smell
Laid in the look of the silent waters
Deeply deep and quick to quit lives.
We give birth to ready hands of death
And celebrate their gone too soon.
Death goons lead, luring us with wordy candies
To disguised comfortable suites of pains.
And conscience is no more conscience
Our hearts hold corn shell burns
Burnt and blasted with demonic sciences
Lethally bored into a supposedly human minds.
Our music is no more music
Spittle and vibrations drag in the mud
How do we dance?
Who will teach us?
The dancers are fat now
Very fat out of knowledge
Knowledge that habours the true steps
They have outgrown the before
The tunes are now sour...
The clothe is short for Omoye
And Omoye has nakedly entered the market!
Bloodshed holds no think value
And sounds like a spill splash of water
Bombs and killings are regular traders
Epidemics debate for a high bid for morbidity.
Where do we go from here?
Deception lies in home away from home
For truth flourishes in there is no place like home.
And this is our home
It worth the fight
And God is there and sees all.