Be the world as hot as hell
I will not dash to the depth to dwell
Be the world at its bitterest worst
The grave I will not in a hurry hug.
Be the country as hot as furnace
By heat I will not away be chased
Be the country on its bended knees
With my lift, it could stand on its feet.
Time may be tough like eye of fish
To live, I will not lie, steal or kill
Be the season as barren as a rock
I will wait until sweet time comes.
The sea may boil with steaming waves
Fishes will never onto land escape
In the wild, predators may be kings
To town, hunted animals will not flee.
Broken and filthy our politics may be
Dripping with spoils we painfully see
But I will never join the looting spree
Cleaning up the mess, my solemn creed.
Pitch-dark the sky may be
In fright, birds will not from it flee
Still, they soar and flap their wings
Until light comes, and better they sing.
Scoring some life goals have I missed
But I won’t in despair quit the pitch
I will keep playing, honing my skill
Until, by grace and work, the odds I beat.
Like a rooted palm tree, will I flourish
Like a newborn baby, be, by all, cherished
Nourished like a thirstless brook-cocoyam
Steady like the testicular gyration of a ram.
Fifty-fifth floor is a pleasant height
Climbing thus far is not at all by right
Floors left to be climbed are to me unknown
But I believe I still have many floors to go.
28th May, 2022