The Sold Beauty Poem by Ifeoluwa Philips

It has been sold
That beauty of old
It was sold for cowries
But left 3pieces of its worries
At the night
All men in wears of a knight
For farther faith
Maybe arose their very fate
They cry, bright off the sky!
See through this tender night
Come up either the light
Let's make cold 'the smiling sky
Bet the call rage
If our home a lizard cage
Ignore the funnel praising fame
The tears of the cloud is about to flame
Arise oh hope of the lame
Gone so cold their land tamed
They beat 'who sold our tribe
With cowries as the price bribed?