FORSAKEN TRADITION

  • Posted by: ALEX OGOH
  • Created: May 7, 2015
  • 0

As we sit waiting in our illusion mind

We await none but of the elusive time

The birds in their nest

Yet we think not what is best

When their creepy noise is at rest

Our heritage which have long been sold

That we seek not but of old

Best in thought but rap in cold

Failing to create none we seek of gold

The suffering though have long been foretold

Clamoring in future hope

When we fail on how to cope

Our fast track have been forgot in a lope

Now we seek prayer from a rat Pope

Oh! Those glorious days have long been gone

Heritage our father's build have all been torn

Our heritage abashed from the rule of the unknown masters

All now is a story of disaster

Coming in with a face like that of a dove

Innermost mind we know not but a predator

Ruling out our heritage theirs is installed into ours

Now we all love not of ours but theirs in every hours.

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