The lights will never go dim,
Birds never stop tweeting,
Love will find you a sweet thing,
And health will complete this awesome team.

You will wage the greatest battles,
Of this life, not with hardware,
But a crises of contending emotions,
Feelings struggling to gain prominence;

Whether they rule you,
Reining them all in,
Or succumbing to the intrigues,
All end in that one place.

Because your shoulders do not hang the orange overalls,
Does not canonize you as a saint,
Do not brush me with red paint,
Just because you walk the hallowed walls.

Stealing is not corruption,
Judas Iscariot is not a criminal,
Love is mere emotion,
And death is not final.

Bedecked from head to foot,
Hungry looking tools of intimidation,
Unlettered in the doctrine of humanity,
Serving the whims of the wicked;

A show of farce,
Ridiculous aggression against the oppressed,
They conveniently look away from primary responsibility,
Only to brutalise the common demand for overall betterment.

Toward the setting sun,
Orange in the distant horizon,
My mind is set on this journey,
Even if I have no money.

Aye, mine heart is brake in twin,
At the callous mowing down,
Of creatures toiling for daily subsistence,
Piled like logs in hurriedly dug pits;

Unmarked shallow graves dot the landscape,
Burnt mud houses, too,
Unharvested peanuts left for vermin,
To do with as they please.

But for no fault of theirs,
Left to circumstances around them,
Shaped by influences that took 'em in,
Ultimately cast into mold of ne'er-do-wells;

Backs turned on reason,
Facing a life of cold embraces,
No warm meals,
Bondless, mere statistic;

They have chosen the path,
To pay in misery's kind,
Dish out as much,
Leave them a taste of they got;

This is the language of their existence,
To engage in violent agitation,
Disobedience pays living stipend,
Opulent lifestyle funded by militancy.

I have learned from father and brother-in-law,
How not to treat wives,
Provision is not a chore,
It is maintaining dear lives.

And for what it is worth,
East, South, West, North,
The Nigeria of my dream,
Can be sweeter than coffee icecream.

Edikaikong, Afang, Ofe Olugbo or Miyan Kuka,
Ila Asepo, Fisherman Soup, White soup or Obe Isapa,
As diverse as the tongues that relish these delicacies,
And rich enough to entice all sorts of tasty fantasies.

Darker faster,
Twilight quicker,
Hotter longer,
Drier better.

Your time has come to its natural end,
Your course has steered itself silly,
Your tongue is disconnected from reality,
Your infamous time among the living will roll into oblivion.

Friendly figure hovers around my warm cradle,
Memories of our walks, holding my tiny hand on the safe side of the road,
Occasional chastisements with the cautionary rod,
Moments I felt love was too difficult to handle;

But growing in mature understanding,
Love meant taking hard decisions,
Not pandering to filial emotions,
Daily praying, guarding and guiding;

My dear old man,
I owe it all to you,
Your great insight has proven true,
Thanks for making me, my own man.

Everyone wrote me off,
They said I wasn't tough,
Enough to make anything work,
They forgot I didn't need their luck.

At every annoying turn,
He goes on, and on, and on,
She knows everybody,
And even the ones criminally unworthy.

Collapse your differences,
Unite those preferences,
Form a mould of unity,
With our colourful diversity.

The noisy calm shook the placid hall,
Eggheads in randomized order,
Knocking over spirited coconut heads,
Assembling to Brownian zigzaggedness.

It's all comers thriving port,
Where receives all questionable sort,
The white Jesus, blond, blue eyed,
And the point where freedom died;

First came an American man with suspicious payload,
But caught by the eagle eye of an Amazon bold,
Whereas Adadevoh gave her life, to save hundreds of millions,
Ebola disease had no qualms

Just as we thought this too shall pass,
An Italian man skips our terrible defenses,
Who knows how far he had transmitted,
The deadly Wuhan China Corona Virus;

Codenamed COVID19,
The potential annihilator has arrived,
Coconut heads responsible for early detection,
Obviously busy enjoying some unwarranted vacation;

And as the many have taken to prayers,
To ward off evil from their areas,
The charge is to ruling class,
To not confirm theirs is the true natured ***.

And she was not fresh,
Blessed with an annoying breath,
But men formed a shameful mesh,
Around this unwholesome breadth.

Who we are inside,
That inner person,
Those things done without reason,
Evils, desperately, we want to hide.

If death today shuts me eye,
I pray to God, me soul, on wings to fly,
And if I cannot attain a place that high,
Then earth bound without a goodbye.

We come, here, for a reason,
Then in a season,
We leave well behind,
All, the beautiful, and the unkind.

We come, here, for a reason,
Then in a season,
We leave well behind,
All, the beautiful, and the unkind.

Yes, you took away our gem,
In such manner, quote gruesome,
With us, this star was awesome,
But you cut short the life's term;

No, you didn't act alone,
Couldn't have been a coincidence,
The accident was as pretence,
To cover up what they had done.

They found themselves sewn together by imperial threads,
And a century later they are clawing desperately at the seams,
But the crown seems oblivious of their frustrations,
Only choosing to gawk disparagingly at their hopeless haplessness.

When I was three,
He came through the barrel,
Now I am thirty-three,
He comes in civilian apparel.

Nobody knows, will ever know,
Can only imagine,
The curves that life did throw,
And the response engine;

Live a day, or two,
In my emotions,
And try also, do,
Sleep with the commotions;

Then come close,
To even begin to believe,
That you share a dose,
Of the times that I live.

Petals of red and gold,
Pink and green within the folds,
Breathtaking, they line the glassy roads,
On the way to the grassy hold.

When children dream,
Where are they?
Sleepy laugh suggests a realm,
Where all they do is play.

You are a thief,
You go around committing mischief,
You fill women's hearts with unwholesome grief,
You make men's lives short, and painfully brief.

Why work ever so hard,
For what, really,
All year round vacation to the ends of the earth,
Or a fleet of never before driven, custom, rare wheels?

Going through the files of my life,
All the scrapes, near misses, and strife,
It is a wonder I still can find my way,
To a directory full of sunshine, beautiful,  everyday.

When the old die young,
And the young never see the dusk,
Know there is something wrong,
When the living fight over dried husk.

In times of harvest,
Or long periods of arid rest,
Each to its season,
To be engaged, and with plenty of reason.

I make me what I want,
Insecure, shrivelled and broken,
Or happy and giddy,
A fun, go lucky daddy.

Now the mold is set,
And the dawn broken,
The cost of aloofness,
Is to be rewarded with less;

Refusing to make effort,
Apathy in the face of oppression,
Choosing to mind other things,
Throwing the future to the dogs.

At what cost, your Excellency?
What toll has your triumph taken?
Your glory at the expense of lives,
Dancing over a sea of blood.

If I had it on a platter of gold,
And never knew how much it was sold,
Then Can I make bold,
My velvety, blue voice, in the hustling fold.

Constantly prodding, digging without remorse,
Ripped of all diginifying attributes, and without recourse,
Taking, relentlessly pouring, your sickening abomination,
Laid bare, broken, in a state of defiled contamination.

Hungry for many a month,
This pretty bird, borne, of the spirit,
Reminds me not to quit,
That my help, not long, is by the door mouth.

Nothing to scream about,
Or throw vein popping tantrums,
Nothing to sulk about,
Or break fragile eardrums.

Collusion, collusion!
Oh, what a situation!
In god's own nation!
****, what a misconception!

Life is but temporary,
Whether ordinary,
Or with affluence,
What's left is the essence;

For there was a confidante,
Whose opinion was sacrosanct,
Loathed by not a few,
Loved by others that had no clue;

In him was the ruler most pleased,
To direct and plant the right seed,
To direct the affairs of state,
While staying in the light of his shadow.

Full of energy,
Bursting at every pore,
No, not one moment of lethargy,
Sunny bright at the very core.

Who are we?
How did we?
When did we?
How then can we?

Five times daily,
Or many times weekly,
Their forebears were crusaders,
And Jihadist conquerors.

The tripod of deception,
Sown by our fathers,
Tended by our mothers:
Hausas, Igbos, and Yorubas.

High in the hills,
Down by the creeks,
Voices drowned in sludge,
And by devils who would not budge.

Remember us,
The minority, so christened,
What we have, we got by force,
Better, if they had listened.