Ichabod. Poem by Ogolla Enock

Here, among these ruins once stood
the throne of dignity, honor, and respect;
full of glory, and flowing with abundance.
The hope of men. A force to reckon with-
‘The chosen of God, and a nightmare to demons.

Who saw this land in its former glory?
And how does it seem in your eyes now?
Ichabod- the glory is departed.
The king is fallen. But there is a lifting up.
They will rise again, better than ever.

Listen, you mighty men and great nations,
You aren't first and last to tread these roads
Look round and look again, behold the ruins
of those who forsook the old paths.
Their glory now turned into dross

Make not the same mistakes, the end is the same.
Be not deceived. You aren't infallible.
Abide in the veil and forsake not the old paths
The higher you raise the stronger you'd abide
Nothing outlives its foundations and maintenance.

Ogolla Enock 8th April,2023