Riding Through Memories Poem by Adeosun Olamide

In these graves, brave men of old lay
With tombstones sullied by ere long,
And yards blighted with frenzied thicket
That gentle breeze leaves quieting souls to bitter colds

Upon ides day, their march upon fates path was set
On a route authored not by them nor the bliss made for them
Perhaps authored by unknown gods with bliss doomed for the unborn,
They hiked in haste of removing shackled chains and whips on enslaved race

With wooden spears tiding against guns and explosives they wrestle
Against the skies upon earth, against waters upon shores
And without the blessings of the gods, they were starved of victory
And shorn of joy, death scream filtered the unruly night

Now weary with scars survivors trudges back to the caves
With flawed remains of companions through livelong night
With women marred with marks of identities by slave traders
Now trudge them all to the caves, cold, free and afraid of freedom ones desired

Here they tilled the earth and lain the earners of their crave
Of little tales the tongue passed to listening ears
And it was this, until they were all washed off in memories
Disremembered, disregarded our graves be, we whose souls your freedom bought.