Tomorrow will come to mind soon
when we’ll part ways to come again.
We will forget yesterday we cried rain,
we will remember the meatless meal
we shared behind door of ignorance.
Africa have many branches to protect.
My heart will cuddle your pains passionately,
the stored laughter of your muse canned
on the hairy legs of my bethroted fate.
we will not allow the sky to bleed blood
when the atmosphere is romantically abused
and the Petals, nectar of daisies voice out loudly.
I shall speak with the new voices of Africa,
Reflecting on those agonies our forefathers
saw in the hands of their slaves reincanating.
Jaja will come to mind at the full moon,
Nkrumah shall dwells in my talking blood,
Awolowo and Zik of Africa shall be my voice.
I have been to the eloquent Badagry lately,
I saw the rivers of no return now sorrowful,
I went to freedom park at Lagos Island,
where history without pages was made in colours,
I asked of water but blood they brought to me;
the blood of my father’s and sisters in grave.
Where are the Chibok girls lost in mirage?
Who owes that Millions found in the building?
Where is the president of Nigeria now?
Who is Lai Muhammed to our hearts in question?
Who made the youths strange to their fight?
I will talk to Mandela again for freedom!
Ibadan is the colour of my voice to men,
we can not be ruled by greed and succeed.
Lagos is the muse that misfortune got in mind,
we can not be governed rhetorically in shame.
Enugu is the flag of pity in the eyes of Easterners,
they made us look like the dregs of the society.
We will flag off these flags of corruption now
and start from the darkness in every street.
We will reflect and measure time and tide,
this is the journey of blood and freedom.
But purging out encrypted past is the answer
then we reflect on those voices judging today.
©John Chizoba Vincent