The Drums Of War Poem by Raimi Babatunde

I can hear the drums
This sound, surreptitiously melodius
With leaves in their mouths
Bare chested with six packs
They all rushed out
Flaying muscles and strength
Some engaged in delightsome combats
A ritual before the carnage
The gods must be with them

When I heard the drums
I knew it was the last straw
No retreat, no surrender!
Alcohol flowed freely
Mothers clutched their daughters
Strangers sacrificed at night fall
The gods must be thirsty
What a price to pay for victory
In a land so rich, so poor
Who cursed Africa?

The Chief Priest blessed them all
This is not the natural atonement
For he spoke in strange tongues
As he spoke to the kolanuts
The fruits of the gods
In a bid to hand them the battle
For it is not by flesh
Then "Jagunlabi" was fingered
He has been chosen by the gods
Now, the onus rests on him

When I heard the drums
It was the sound of war
We refuse to be intimidated
None will be spared
We have been pushed
Now, we fight for our generation
At least, it is worth dieing for
The revolution begins now
We refuse to cower
This rubbish ends here!

The people cried and wailed
As the warriors advanced with courage
To the thick evil forest they marched
The abode of the wicked
For years, they held us captives
Not sure of their return
Wives wailed and children cried
But this is the ultimate battle
That which leads to liberation
Trust me, this is the final quest

Take a deep breathe in
Close your eyes and ponder
Thus far, what do you see?
I see hope and restoration
A new army have emerged
An army of Writers and Poets
Armed with the greatest weapon of all
Our pen, inked with blood
We will write and poet
And will not stop, until we win!

Babatunde Raimi
Author/Life Coach/Poet