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Mpayinfo) Akwaaba, The melodies streaming and vibrating, Are lyrics inked By the rankled lightenings, On the dark clouds, And blown by the gods From their retributive flutes, Prompting the thunders to chorus, The terrors, Mpayinfo) The legs of time is stout, And will stride wearing not, For the coals and brimstones creeps, And will be pernicious, Even to your progenies, Mpayinfo) For the language of the gods, I speak not, But their deep seated pique And bruises, I tell and forewarn, Mpayinfo), Where is Okyeame and the Omanhene, Where are they? Why come without them? I guess they know;their clandestines Have fallen before the sights of the gods, Vultures that eats from the pots of the eagele;In his absence, And smear faeces on the tips, Traitors of traditions, For the alien groceries Have tucked their intelligence, And left them groggy Famished Dogs Mpayinfo), Why sit-tight and watch; As aliens contrive a throne Over our goods? And defile our land With their iniquituos schemes Ubiquitously, Mpayinfo) The gods sing the blues, And grieve day and night, Their tadpoles have lorn them, And clung to an alien deity, For this I say and forewarn, Like I told your fathers before, If the witchweed is not uprooted with vehemence, The creeping coals and brimstones, Shall surely surmount entirely, "A word to a wise";They say"it enough" Now go, Oracle ©Historian E.Lexano,
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
oracle
Mpayinfo) Akwaaba, The melodies streaming and vibrating, Are lyrics inked By the rankled lightenings, On the dark clouds, And blown by the gods From their retributive flutes, Prompting the thunders to chorus, The terrors, Mpayinfo) The legs of time is stout, And will stride wearing not, For the coals and brimstones creeps, And will be pernicious, Even to your progenies, Mpayinfo) For the language of the gods, I speak not, But their deep seated pique And bruises, I tell and forewarn, Mpayinfo), Where is Okyeame and the Omanhene, Where are they? Why come without them? I guess they know;their clandestines Have fallen before the sights of the gods, Vultures that eats from the pots of the eagele;In his absence, And smear faeces on the tips, Traitors of traditions, For the alien groceries Have tucked their intelligence, And left them groggy Famished Dogs Mpayinfo), Why sit-tight and watch; As aliens contrive a throne Over our goods? And defile our land With their iniquituos schemes Ubiquitously, Mpayinfo) The gods sing the blues, And grieve day and night, Their tadpoles have lorn them, And clung to an alien deity, For this I say and forewarn, Like I told your fathers before, If the witchweed is not uprooted with vehemence, The creeping coals and brimstones, Shall surely surmount entirely, "A word to a wise";They say"it enough" Now go, Oracle ©Historian E.Lexano,
The_Prince
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The_Prince
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
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