IN THIS PUTRID LAND OF OURS

In this putrid land of ours
The stars have gone blind
The moon too does not mind
That men are butchered at night
The sun scorches us on arid lands,
Yet when on our haggard bones we lie
The galaxy conspire to be their light

The palm trees stand high at ease
While the Iroko trees dance quietly
To the swaying sound of gentle breeze
Even friendly grasses path sluggishly
For evil men to walk through joyfully
The sun scorches us on arid lands
Yet when on our haggard bones we lie
The forest conspire to be their ally

The rivers are now quiet and still
They no longer flood to wash the land
Of decaying carcass and clotted blood
The rivers are now slow and shallow
To swallow men with blood dripping feet
The sun scorches us on arid lands
Yet when on our weary backs we laid
Upon the quiet waters they all sailed

In this putrid land of ours
Every grass is a mournful flower
A tale of people buried to fate
Betrayed by the place we call home
Our fairy tales now sour and stale
But does God ever hear our groan

Must every blood in this nation
Be poured as the land’s libation?
Must every blood in this nation
Be poured as the land’s libation?


Alpha E. Y. 21/04/22

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