The Lions Still Roar Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

Proving that water can be just as thick
As the red blood in the bloodstream
We beat the drums ever louder
The cats still mew but in absence of guilt
The dogs still bark not in present of goodness
The owl still hoots for clarification of their kind
Pregnant cloud continues gathering to honour the earth
Whilst black vultures still sing beside the
Mighty River nkporo in honour to the world of carcass
Recall the ancient magic of the Ohafians
Those with human heads on their heads dancing
Our skins colour represent braveness not weakness
We are still black, we roar in the forest of life
Overthrowing what they said in the past
we are the black, we roars more than the white
we are blacks, black in the heart, black in nature
The food we eat are black and our music black
Nothing changes about who we are yet when
We roar the earth shake in horror
Does any one knows the yam that will be pick
Last in the barn of life after the great tribulation?
Our lives, once a thorny alarm in their hands
Desperately won and torn apart in absence of gut
We've seen a crack emerged, a crack from the colonizers
We've come face to face with tomorrow in fear
Then we fell and failed many times in their hands
But the lions still roar with no weakness
We are still black, the elephants of the forest
We roar not in vain but in accomplishment of our aims