Forest King
Though I have no voice
I could become a singer
though I have no voice
Soon, very soon the cock will crown
I had no voice
My soften mind harden my pen
In the jungle of the hard hearted
capping blacks in black
so there path be dark and slippering
brandish spear with javelin falls rain
In the ways of the mighty
So, the testator cog!
for the mute shall grow
foot to feet but soon go with the cowries
I rather leave though not with my name
walls shall bear it all
Spark my windy tongue
The Iroko trees, chaff before the wind
as heavy heart spat the axiom
off all weak dreaded
Indelible it stuck on the wall
like wild gum on tree trunks
with cyclone clinging neck and crop
The tick-hand erected your tower
like the withered plant it shall
level the mud
so shall it be!
for the unwilling silent souls
have drain the whiteness of your eyes
you hadn't no
your snail as tasted the forbidden spice
Just a little pour from the clouded sky
just a little pour
Shall sound the trumpet of the tyrant
Copyright © Igbalajobi Olasunkanmi | Year Posted 2005
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