What is life?
With it, we are born into it
We meet people, we talk with our likes.
By chance, Oh sorry! By fate, the mighty, the lowly we meet.
The quest to live and not just to exist
Takes us along the paths of aliens.
Some are friends, there are also foes
Some are fair, not a few are fiery
But I was told ‘they are dynamic.’
Power- that hill in a valley, God gives
To the less, the lost to lead
With the love and compassion that found the less.
But blind ego, the cause of weakness of the will
And the lust of passion
Turns the less an ibegwu – gods of my Igalas.
And as I lay for just a thought
Of the day when he that gives all that there is
Shall call short for an account of the service of power.
Then, oh! How I wished, that;
The strong become might of the weak
The rich, wealth of the poor.
Then shall the doors of the west
Be generously opened to the north
And rays from the top of the Atlantic light up the path of the sunset.
As the javelins of the sunrise
Become the staff of aged southerners
For we all have gone away from the way that waits to hate.
As every home becomes the resort of the stranger
For the master’s command is that we love
O! Love, he was meek and humble of heart.