Onyeche John Chinaka Poet Concrete

And We Danced Not Again

At every beat of the gong 
The ekere and oja na ebe 
The udu gave the music base 
At every heat on the wooden uhe
The villagers gathered in joy 
Everyone bent down and danced 

But there comes a sudden sound 
Not familiar to our ears and dwellings 
It pairs the thinning air of the music 
Low the villagers halt the beating 
Weapons vomiting fire and smoke 

And we are now slaves with 
Everyday agonies and hopes lost 
Never to return to our home 
The gods in their fire vomiting weapons 
Captured us in our own homes 
And we danced not again

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