Biafra Is Still On My Mind Poem by Victor Okechukwu Anyaegbuna

Biafra is still on my mind
They have done nothing to erase it.
I still hear everywhere,
Words that betray my serenity;
I still see around me,
Acts that remind me of her;
Clouds of gloom that make me
Want to fight again.

Biafra is still on my mind
I still smell all around me
The odium of my fortuitous clan
Betrayed by unsolicited envy and hate
And, deeds that made me want to cry.
My lamentations and sorrows
Of the past, that went out of bounds
And fired the zeal in me,
To dare death and fight.

Biafra is still on my mind
They have done nothing to appease
My valiant departed brethren,
Our heroes past, to rest in peace.
The Herod's lineage still hunts me
And my blessed generations,
Trapping us in a bottle of loathing,
And bumping our heads, to sustain
Mock unity on a lop sided terrain;
To milk me dry, detour my destiny,
Waste my life, and my progeny.

Biafra is still on my mind;
I had thought they would have killed it,
That I too may forget her anguish.
The dry bones stir in protest,
Charging my imported mind,
From this abyss of valour.
They remind me of the pogrom,
The genocides that deported to eternity,
The best minds in my ancestral clan.
They rattle the dead woods,
And make me want to fight again.

Biafra is still on my mind
‘cos she gave me great hopes,
That my human capital
Can translate to tangible vision;
To stir life and plant meaning into it,
But coarse sub-human cabals
Have tried to bury alive
My zeal of many generations,
To sustain graft,
And perpetuate abhorrence
In a shameless journey
To yesterday.

Biafra is still on my mind!
They are doing nothing to erase it.
They have pushed me to the wall;
My sanctuary can no longer yield.
My muscles twitch and pull,
To source pains from my ageing bones;
And I am losing balance.
If I have to declare my valour
To my maker,
At the gate of eternal bliss,
I will fight again, my last fight,
That my blood may stir when I am gone.