A friend of races and that of the ages
A friend of the enemy, an enemy of a friend
A man unseen, but still distinct
A son of the horn and at times of light
The accidents you've caused, are the causes of curse.
Our guns are ready to kill the unseen
Our targets are made, we are ready to retaliate
But like in a dream we found ourselves screaming,
All at gunpoint!Looking fiercely to kill!
Our ears are deaf even to ourselves
Just like a scene the robber started the robbery!
Slings we've made to kill for a meal,
But the meal is already in our bloodstream
The way he took we never know,
Our traps are in vain,to track the rails,
Indeed! We are derailed!
The more we try, the less we are
It's like we are mad, 'to chase the wind'
And this breaks the seat!
Our missions are tough, like chasing the storm
But a day will come, that our suffering shall stop
Then our victory shall come!
But a shame it is, that day i mean
Our journey shall start,
When our victory arrives!
Copyright © Samuel Fatokun Ph