Incantation Of The Brave - Poem by Adeoye Adetoba
Men and animals eat vegetables of varieties.
I'm a thistle meant not for their plates
And palates. I'm a toad whose meat
Is never found in the pool of an egusi soup.
So i dance and swagger in the presence
Of the soup maker.
I'm a maize fruit nestled in the bottle.
The hungry fowl can only look helpless,
The eating of me is ever an illusion.
Like the tiny soldier ant
In the gathering of cockrels,
Danger are just mere passing shadows.
The frog has dived into the pond,
Conflagration of fire can never smoke it out.
The needle would have had its headway
Long before the fabric closes up.
As the wind is never held in a fist
So am i evasive to the clutches of pestilence.
Obstacles laid on the path of Ajanaku,
All are heading the way of the unstoppable elephant.
The stone has never been known to be frail
Neither is the death of the cutlass ever reported.
Even as the flesh of the egret
Is deliciously desired to be in an okro soup,
The destiny of the egret shields it
Away from the pot of soup.
My destiny is my shield,
My shield is my destiny
I take to the battle ground of life;
And when the sun sets on the land,
I should boldly say with my head held high:
I came, I saw and I conquer.
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