Obra -Life

Son, let me tell you something I once heard It was your grandfather Who told me When he saw I had grown beard It’s about a journey to a town, That comes with some great earn Cattle, cowries, gold…; There would be more than what you can even care But the journey is meant for the valiant Not the coward, neither the drunkard nor the lazy So only few young men attempt to dare Obra is a town whose location I cannot even show Do not ask why Your grandpa told me he doesn’t also know But leading to the town, Is a narrow and a lonely path In a jungle filled with trees That your father’s machete cannot even cut. The path meanders on mountains That stands tall and very steep There, your eyes cannot afford to sleep For the wild animals there, Are too satisfied to let your flesh to spare It is not a place for pleasure; You have to prepare before you dare But there is a way to make it there That I would like to share Cover your teeth, son, don’t laugh, You’ll still have to pay the fare. The troubles are great, So learn how to persevere Appease the gods and have faith So that you will never fear Remember you will dine with kings When you work hard to make it there And the rest of your days would be good So I urge you to go and dare