The Warrior's Many Songs Yet Unsung

I. In the full light of a warriors plight, Sometimes it becomes a case of being slighted and being Aright, Its a case of solemn thinkings to soothe this anguish and its deeprooted pain, Do see things from the Warrior's point of view, He sees Life as a kaleidoscopic dreamy paraphrase, Roasting Angernuts and storing them aways as Groundnuts stored in airtight jars, For when his flesh is pricked his thunderous clap resounds for eight villages and beyond, His most favorite son supplies his fill-ins of heavily spiced and stuffed roasted Bushmeat, His most loving and caring daughter never allows his fresh kicking "House and Bush fly saluted" Palmwine to cease its awesome flow, His youngest and most active wife sits at his left side to wrap his "wisdom fumes" in its tobacco sheath...Marijuana never tasted more spiritual from her very fingertips, He loves the looks on his strongheaded sons' face as they sit in gossip to roast his yellow sweet corns, The feel of roasted corn blended with the "wise fumes" arising from this Marijuana spliff all wetted down with the Imperial fluidity of palmwine. II. Drinking this two mouthfuls of the enemy chief's blood at battle never felt any soulwarming, For you it would be constant anguished Bed tossing, Draping my palace in Human skulls and rare animal skins, Writing for Kings, Knights and their Monks, Writing for Spliffs, Chieves and their Drunks, Writing for Owls, Dragons, Angels and their Wings, Knowing full well your brain might learn to take its rightful Literary place, We must have moved with this much a-blaze, We will slow down for you to sip in this page's full intake, Not a case of primitive battle acclaims, Just a feel of the Martial spirit though, The warrior's many many songs yet unsung, His life and times,Do keep within your salient confines.