Heritage Poem by Chukwuebuka Onah

This land I was born,
This soil ages dwelt,
and here they all return,
for the bloods never in extinct.
Shall I compare thee to missisipi?
Or the bricks of alien?
Incomparable to the south of kin,
for this heritage,
I drank on terrain.
Land of my grey wisdom,
flowing like the tide of Tigris,
on the acient paths of dome,
where ages shall feast on bliss.
Rise all you heritage of this soil,
and defend the blood
of ages toil.