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
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