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THE COMBATS

At Gassama’s
final trumpet, at his final
trumpet . . .

They stood like
the crucifixion’s stake,
Like the crucifixion’s stake,
The Antelopes stood,

Cheery visages in glum,
Wreathed with wide waters,
Of the hearts crackdom accepted.

They’ve caressed
Leaking from The Eagles
In twin-legged sphere leather
Combats, they’ve caressed.

Whoopee,
To the
Giant In The Sun!
Whoopee, to The Eagles…!

Alas! We’ve sucked
the surf and wind out of The Antelopes’ sail,

Sail to Pindorama,
Where Países would be
Striving to kiss the Cup of gold.

Written by: Madu Chisom Kingdavid
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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