The height of mourning, soaring in a country soul,
Rocking and mocking this soul hitherto laurelled the giant
of Africa.
Lo what becomes of her, are grenades by cryptic cliques
Polluting and violating her nooks and crannies,
Snatching and crushing her said seeds-to-blossom,
The delinquent invading her strong blocs.
The blocs built by her unswerving and patriotic warriors
And nurtured by her regiments of think tanks and wordsmiths.
As timepiece is ticking second by second,
This republic yet dares by tribal cleavages over flora and
fauna.
Ergo, the budding broods of the earth beseech the Divine for
peace
To be descended on this falling failing black giant nation
For it to stay to sow sounding seeds
And keep experiencing
singing harvests
Of reliving peace, unity, joy in honour and glory.
By: Abdulhafeez T.
Oyewole
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