Monday 18, June 2018
Poetic Justice: Freedom Is All I Ask For
Author: Ikenna Ozulumba Mbaegbu
For: IPOB Writers
Never ask how I live,
I bask in pain.
Never ask how I survive,
By His grace I sustain.
When others were rejoicing
I was grieving
When they cerebrate
In anger I vibrate
When shall I be free
From this anguish?
When replenish
Shall my table be?
When?
When?
When, I ask,
Do I have things to call my own?
I am a true son of the land
But a slave in my own motherland
No freedom, no peace
No freedom, no joy
Life has become miserable .
Freedom!
Freedom!
Freedom!
This is all I yearn for!
I am a poet
Whose poems reveal only sorrow
I am in quandary,
I clamor for a better tomorrow.
Behold the writer of ills
Who unveils
The society's evils,
And, the guilty's guilts.
Call me anything
Deny me everything
But give me my freedom
Give me Biafra, God's Kingdom.
Is that too much to ask?
Thy evils someday He shall unmask
His succor I so much desire
His wrath, an unquenchable fire!
Humanity should bear me witness,
Have never put one to disgrace
Nor to any have I wronged,
But only ask for what to me belongs.
Freedom!
Freedom!
Freedom!
This is All I ask for!
Why put me to this hardship?
Imagine, Prince losing his Princeship!
Oh, God of Intervention
In thine hands lies my salvation!
In thee I put my trust
Allow not I be put to shame
Instead, raise me to fame
And have my foes shamed.
I look to you
Come to my rescue
Oh, Lord of Hosts
And sink the enemy's boasts.
My freedom, I require
Biafra, we desire
Oh lord, send unto us a Messiah
So that we may glorify thy holy name.
Poetic Justice: Freedom Is All I Ask For
Author: Ikenna Ozulumba Mbaegbu
For: IPOB Writers
Never ask how I live,
I bask in pain.
Never ask how I survive,
By His grace I sustain.
When others were rejoicing
I was grieving
When they cerebrate
In anger I vibrate
When shall I be free
From this anguish?
When replenish
Shall my table be?
When?
When?
When, I ask,
Do I have things to call my own?
I am a true son of the land
But a slave in my own motherland
No freedom, no peace
No freedom, no joy
Life has become miserable .
Freedom!
Freedom!
Freedom!
This is all I yearn for!
I am a poet
Whose poems reveal only sorrow
I am in quandary,
I clamor for a better tomorrow.
Behold the writer of ills
Who unveils
The society's evils,
And, the guilty's guilts.
Call me anything
Deny me everything
But give me my freedom
Give me Biafra, God's Kingdom.
Is that too much to ask?
Thy evils someday He shall unmask
His succor I so much desire
His wrath, an unquenchable fire!
Humanity should bear me witness,
Have never put one to disgrace
Nor to any have I wronged,
But only ask for what to me belongs.
Freedom!
Freedom!
Freedom!
This is All I ask for!
Why put me to this hardship?
Imagine, Prince losing his Princeship!
Oh, God of Intervention
In thine hands lies my salvation!
In thee I put my trust
Allow not I be put to shame
Instead, raise me to fame
And have my foes shamed.
I look to you
Come to my rescue
Oh, Lord of Hosts
And sink the enemy's boasts.
My freedom, I require
Biafra, we desire
Oh lord, send unto us a Messiah
So that we may glorify thy holy name.
Post A Comment:
0 comments:
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.