Messengers Poem by Elijah Gbenga

So it was that
man his way lost,
and his head too,
so here we come from
our communions with the gods
bearing his boom and doom.

We are the masters of the art
we care less about the acts;
we are the guides to the horizon
and beyond; we care not what was;
We are the liars the gods
have chosen to speak the truth
but we speak soot to soothe
the cursed of the gods;
we are the leaders with no eyes
who show big-eyed men the way,
for our sigidis see beyond
the sights of mortals;
we are the cowards
who sire the brave,
the cripples who teach the brave
how to wield the sword.

Proud are we as the sun
with our blood-soaked
ever-white garment,
for so the gods made us
and so man makes us.