Nattered Poem by Victor Okechukwu Anyaegbuna

Dangers straggled our noble path,
But we dared not retreat.
Daggers stared us in the face,
Threatening our jugular,
To milk the last drop
Of our life’s most treasured juice.

Barrels of deadly rifles
Poked our forehead,
To bilk the last of our treasured poker
Engraved on mercury.

We wandered like robots
With lost controls, that plunge
Into traps set by our guards.
Drains of real power into the diaspora,
Wantonly blur our ancestry
And traditions that set our identity.

Endangered
By imported insurgents, that give
The opium of Karl Marx for wine,
Tap, export and modify our minds
To discredit our roots.
That God hated, and cried
To our deaf ears.