Babalola Augustine Adeola
My Prayer - Poem by Babalola Augustine Adeola
Turn on the tap of creativity,
Open the well of wisdom,
Let me feel the flow.
Engrave our heart OLODUMARE.
Excavate our heart and exhume it of evil.
Cure us of guilt
And deliver us to our inner man
The prosecutor that wanting he may find not.
That our land may feel the new flow of freshness
Our heart onenss
And take our mother to SOKOTI ALAGBEDE ORUN
to melt and beat her again
and to the house of the potter for re-molding.
Destroy finally the ADINGBARANKU
who sat atop stirring the wheel.
The face with many hands
the constant guest at our four year festival
who only changes his mask
and let PA MAKU die finally
as one day KOKUMO will have to die
They have ate the fruit our fore fathers sowed with their blood
making their labour dance AZONTO and ETINGI in the valley of vain
refusing to replant.
Calling us wasted and lazy generation.
You have watched enough.
OGBEJA KERU O B’ONIJA arise
For today I call on behalf of my brothers
Cure us of the epilepsy that always disgrace us at the market square
That our fathers infected us with
Erase our path from theirs.
Let us live as orphans in their life time.
Sprinkle their blood in the air and let it wet the road.
If they refuse AGBEJE leaves on their hands
Before you accept my oblation and drive my request home,
Cure us of our inheritance
For our heart harbors more darkness than theirs.
We have not just learnt the trade,
Improvement we have brought to it.
Cure us first before you cure our land.
For all these I pray.
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