Dead End

Poem By Abel John

Awoken to behold the demise of
our fathers,
Children born with no father to
cut a navel.
The morning cries, from floating
dead toll, made our early
morning carnival,
As we danced to the melodious
rattling of guns like 'ikoga; '
And the lost of loved ones, the
moon-light tales.
The wailing as deep as black
As for our strong men,
Step-out is inevitable while for
freedom clamour.
The feminine regime's begun
with an armour;
For no lads to tell the maidens a
And our homes bread by widows
at thirty.
With half an eye we perch the
bed in murmur;
Keep ears transmitting like
belisha beacon,
And on high lift the gates of the
As we yearn to drink not of
On our minds the battle lines will
die and smoulder;
For in our roofs are wars fought
and not surrendered.
These mud houses built on
graves must grow as tall as the
Having affairs with the moon;
For adulterated wasn't the
manure returned,
All for but a cry for freedom.

As we cry our eyes dry, we face a
new dawn.
This fight must cease to build a
But the beauty of freedom is
sweet like cheese.
Now the gallow's reversed for
What's asked is given,
So, inevitable, is abuse.
Oh that our Moses be meek,
And Joshua be courageous!
Even as the dew of manna is
In hunger we must die.
From the rock is water for our
wearing throats,
But the channels built under the
moonless nights.
Now we go places but make
Who shall raise the serpent of
While we die of snake bites?
Oh that the Heavens will enlarge
our coast
And bless this land with beans
and oil!

In grief we bend to gird our loin.
And to the passers-by, never
mind our cry;
For in this habitation is wailing a
And the sorrow that crept on our
chest left a failing heart.
Though the eyes cease to give a
But for this agony our voice must
Oh reincarnation,
That we would find favour in
your sight!
How the people await the return
of Awolowo;
For the fallen walls of education
are given to decay;
Our heads buried in panadol,
As we must calculate energy and
Please let not Einstein delay;
And should mercy be relayed,
Pythagoras has left us in a fight
by his unfinished will,
Send him back to give us a say
And toss us through vertices like
How can they learn the joy of
Shouldn't Lincoln show his face.
This is a dead end, an end there

Comments about Dead End

Peace to Nigeria, Peace to the world.

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