Mothers of my
land they dream of becoming
But in
dilemma they are, groaning
In the agony
of horror.
Oppressing
dreams of yester years
Through the
sour-sounds of gun
That has
become a thorn of
Untold
hardship in the lives of many.
Tears roll
on their cheek
Like dew on
morning flowers.
Authorities
of the land bow for the
Avoidable
shame of the rebelling souls,
With demands
that rule thoughts of insanity
From the
rebel-lords.
Dancing in
the show of shame
In my dear
land, with the loudable melody
Of bomb that
beclouds a peaceful land.
Tongue
wagging for the number one man
Of the land
for succour but little or
Know act
from his part.
What a land!
Cage by the powerful
Hands of few
“boko-slams”.
Smiles to
the world we honor to strangers,
But mockery
entity we are
In the comity
of Nations.
Oh! Our
dying souls whose breakthrough
Know no clue
at present, but hoping on
The
invisible means of God.
By: OSENI Yusuf
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