I am Africa's son, born of her womb,
Cleansed in Olokun's waters, nature's sacred tomb.
My ancestors' fortification, sweet and strong,
Courses through my veins, all day long.
...
In the dusk hush, where shadows play,
I find solace, away from life's disarray.
Not by choice, but necessity's sway,
I keep to myself, lest distractions slay.
...
If God is all powerful, is He just?
Or helpless, benevolent, we must trust?
Our fate, self written, yet we deny,
Blinded by faith, our truth, we can't apply.
...
As twilight's veil descends upon my soul,
I bid farewell, my heart made whole.
No tears, dear friends, for I've lived my share,
A life of trials, love, and tender care.
...
The truth is dark,
Yet it must be told.
The day grows dim,
Were you ever told?
...
When the sun resigns its duty
and lamps grow tired of truth,
they emerge soft-footed men in borrowed cloaks,
counting dreams like rain caught in open palms.
...
Mother Africa's Blessing.
I am Africa's son, born of her womb,
Cleansed in Olokun's waters, nature's sacred tomb.
My ancestors' fortification, sweet and strong,
Courses through my veins, all day long.
Daughters of Oduduwa, mothers of might,
Weavers of night's glory, shining bright.
In night markets, they vend, beans cake ablaze,
Fried with life's blood, sacred, mystic ways.
Their throne, carved by ancestral hands,
I sit, assured, in their steadfast stands.
Like solid rocks, they anchor me fast,
Eagle-like, soaring, prey in sight at last.
Not common birds, but goddesses true,
Wining with ignorance's blood, dining anew.
Second to none, but gods themselves,
Fortifying me, against wicked spells.
Mother Africa, back me with your might,
Shield me from charms, and witching night.
I hold your rugged, resilient back,
Guiding me through life's labyrinthine track.