Poem: Call of fatherland - A Tribute dedicated to Chimaobim
Okafor- Ada-Biafra (a.k.a- Waka-Waka Biafra)
Authored By// Onyebuchi Eucharia
FOR: IPOB Writers
The call appeared,
Like ancestors' voices
Possessed the souls,
That spoke,
And still speaking!
In the waves and wind,
Day in, day out!
Calling for just hearts
To rise and speak!
Against the dark cloud,
That covered the sun.
The cloud turned
To monsters that feed,
On the red flavoured liquid
That gushed
And still gushing out
Of the neck of a plump body
That has become a prey,
In a mugger’s hand;
A daily ritual drink,
To monsters in disguise.
Of brothers in outdoor,
But indoor!
Paint the walls of their rooms!
With the blood of my folks.
Everywhere in the land,
Now smells blood, blood!
Brethren, brethren!
Look into the mirror,
And see the reflection.
The hour of grace
Is at hand!
Fear no more the wave,
Of their aggression
The stage has passed,
Fear no more the sound,
Of their gun!
The victory is near!
Pay no attention to their
Slanderous reports!
The truth is now open!
Care no more about their
Dread, daggers and blades!
For the sun is on the rise!
The dance you witnessed
In the past, was
An answered call!
To the fatherland
Over the hills, bridges
In the bushes, churches
Under the sun, in the rain
Was a hot dance!
With gun and a kiss of bullet!
Yet, spirit filled strong!
Till the stormy rain struck!
Tears became the music!
And earth became
Far to greet!
Oh…yes!
I am grateful!
To the multitude of eyes!
Offered tears and flowers!
But will be more grateful!
If the heart and eyes
Groan no more!
But to keep
The mother drums,
Playing in unity and love!
For the great souls
Of heroes and heroines
Slaughtered by monsters!
To join in full force,
In crusade to outshine,
The dark cloud
That covered the sun.
And when the sun
Finally rises
In East
In West Africa,
You will surely see me
In the arena, with proud
Warriors, dancing
A dance of freedom
In the land of Biafra,
Land of the rising sun!
All Hail Biafra
THE END!
Okafor- Ada-Biafra (a.k.a- Waka-Waka Biafra)
Authored By// Onyebuchi Eucharia
FOR: IPOB Writers
The call appeared,
Like ancestors' voices
Possessed the souls,
That spoke,
And still speaking!
In the waves and wind,
Day in, day out!
Calling for just hearts
To rise and speak!
Against the dark cloud,
That covered the sun.
The cloud turned
To monsters that feed,
On the red flavoured liquid
That gushed
And still gushing out
Of the neck of a plump body
That has become a prey,
In a mugger’s hand;
A daily ritual drink,
To monsters in disguise.
Of brothers in outdoor,
But indoor!
Paint the walls of their rooms!
With the blood of my folks.
Everywhere in the land,
Now smells blood, blood!
Brethren, brethren!
Look into the mirror,
And see the reflection.
The hour of grace
Is at hand!
Fear no more the wave,
Of their aggression
The stage has passed,
Fear no more the sound,
Of their gun!
The victory is near!
Pay no attention to their
Slanderous reports!
The truth is now open!
Care no more about their
Dread, daggers and blades!
For the sun is on the rise!
The dance you witnessed
In the past, was
An answered call!
To the fatherland
Over the hills, bridges
In the bushes, churches
Under the sun, in the rain
Was a hot dance!
With gun and a kiss of bullet!
Yet, spirit filled strong!
Till the stormy rain struck!
Tears became the music!
And earth became
Far to greet!
Oh…yes!
I am grateful!
To the multitude of eyes!
Offered tears and flowers!
But will be more grateful!
If the heart and eyes
Groan no more!
But to keep
The mother drums,
Playing in unity and love!
For the great souls
Of heroes and heroines
Slaughtered by monsters!
To join in full force,
In crusade to outshine,
The dark cloud
That covered the sun.
And when the sun
Finally rises
In East
In West Africa,
You will surely see me
In the arena, with proud
Warriors, dancing
A dance of freedom
In the land of Biafra,
Land of the rising sun!
All Hail Biafra
THE END!
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