Times and season colliding
I have known of seasons of Oppressions
From Our revered AMBASSADORS OF POVERTY
But now I see the masses suffer in mass
Wherein our hope doth lies in this, my people?
I look forth to behold
Through the shades of this revolving misery
I become gibberish
Reasoning seems to fail me
Yet, I remember this is my home
Hope now turning ashes
Doom written all over the sky
Cosmos doth not contain the shame and gory
Can this home be glorious again?
On this once sacred altar
Now remains blood
Uneasiness spreads its tent all around
Our dead now live with us
But I remember we told them ‘E sùn re’*
Yet unrest is written all over them
This home is battered my people
Our fences again can’t hold
The deafly men in Agbádá
Already lost in connection
Here are our people in misery
They sit in squalor
Stripped of valour
We reside in Misery
Unable to unravel the mystery
Shall we again lost and be doomed?
Yet, a little ray from this sole star
Lie upon the sky
Beaming smiles of forgotten hope
Of they who have long left us
Each time I behold thou
I do remember this home: where I belong
‘Ilé làbò simi oko’*.
*E sùn re’- (Rest in peace)
*’Ilé làbò simi oko’- (The home is the sure place of rest after labor).