Of peace I come
A thousand tear-drops mask my face

Here I come to ask of the moment you once promised…
The moment of glory
The moment of honour
The moment of healthy atmosphere

Different from this season of torment
In which ewes grow not to goat
And lambs might remain lamb forever
As chick remain – for hundred years – cockerels

I can see hope dwindling as time vanishes
Like Shea –butter suffering the temper of the sun
I can see our glory swindled by nights of tribal acrimony
I can see the Earth grazing sharp grass of warmongers
I can see light hiding beneath the feet of dark justice
I can see the moon imprisoned in the lair of the clouds
So I see the sun, eyes against the loin of fresh breeze

Of peace I come
When will those promises
Lip the tongue of reality?

Written by: Dauda Muideen Lanre
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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