Ayankogbe Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

Hail the brook that rains on your land.
Awakening the waist waiting
For the sound of your ibata.
How pleasant is it that she cannot wait

For its arrival that her warming started.
That which daily place a million heads
On the Herodian plate for batter.
Ayankogbe the way you twist your wrists

Could make the gods be visitors to our land.
Our women are placing their toes on your bata
Almost being lay as created.
Mosebare o ogboju onilu

To nfi daratowu.
That it has brought the world
In its feet into our kingdom.
Our masters yet this glory deny

But our nudity they explore as freedom.
In their cage your abode lays
While the key is pass to their bastards.
Your great tones now melancholy
It lays in us to be woo,

Into the realm of lamentations
Which you daily merry.
Adieu my great friend yet alive
Daily appraising your dead glory.

When will you resurrect,
Could it be at the demise of your masters
And their bastards
Or the second coming of Christ?