Heartened by perfumes of Arabia
Alhaji salaams,
on the scented grassland of Naira notes.
Ivory-toothed, his illiterate wives
fart noxiously,
to and fro the market,
in leather-cushioned Honda series;
where depair and desolation
sadden
all the greens of the Niger-Delta.
Life is but a walking shadow,
where the milk streams.
How folly of the Nigeria in all of us!
Of you and i that `siddon look',
How much breathe lived in each look?
How much time is come and gone?
Wake me up after I die
drowning myself from these
streaming eyes
killing my pain so softly within me
sitting here crying,
watching the blood drip down me.
Swollen wrists, why can't I stop?
this pain starves me with every drop
buried under my own skin
its hurting me inside
again and again.
tearing myself under this strain
continuously crying, pouring out rain
lying under this putrid soul
bleeding so noxiously out of control
becoming so intense, this pain I can't bare
I'm holding on myself, choking out air
breathing so faintly, thinking in despair
this is only a dream, it can't be real.
I'm screaming inside, I can't hide what I feel
lying by myself, waiting for these wounds to heal
gripeing at the blood flowing down my hand
holding it between my fingers
watching it sink between like sand.
Letting myself drown by these tears over flown
helplessly breaking every nerve, every bone
I've fallen into a disaster of my own
leaving myself to die, selfishly all alone.
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