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Divine Atabod Poem
MY COUNTRY LAND
Oh my Cameroon,
From the colors of a desiring mind,
Hums from an ancestral hands,
The Switzerland of an African land,
It true nature, beauty of it kind,
Footage from it Holy mount,
Memorable of Her outstanding sounds,
Falling unto its Historical towns,
Oh thou flow at two fathoms,
Seized from her master tongue,
Sparkly remarkable it Unity star,
Drawn down peace, love and fatherland.
Copyright © Divine Atabod | Year Posted 2016
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Divine Atabod Poem
DEATH
Paddle round the world,
Born in one destiny,
The three in one trinity,
Reckon dust, death pave our eternity,
Gathered in one phenomenon and gentility,
Ah Mr. Death, knows none nor age,
wrage old and young in ravage,
Vital instrument you kill,
Beyond couldn’t see,
Oh death thy ways are meek and slow,
Your did harden to be known,
Tears can’t hold the dress it stains;
Death has taken its place.
By Divine Atabod
Copyright © Divine Atabod | Year Posted 2016
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Divine Atabod Poem
Black Christmas.
I was bore while I was young,
My word sound odd but strong,
All match passes with different sooth and charms,
Celebrating the feast of who was known a lamb,
Was it a pleasant thing to see?
Far from my home voices heard all the hills,
My face turns black and fiord,
My heart kissed all my urging part,
A chapel I saw, old and young bent their path,
They dance with mood which change human living,
They all sing a song of jittery,
Death smell their path enclave them in slavery,
The lamb sworn this in total misery,
O ye fatal men the voices of bard cry whelminly,
Come forth thee, faithful thy soul won happily,
Receive my grace of hopeful tomorrow,
Hear to it says the lamb, I will bless thou,
Special among all things, multiple in human thinking.
By Divine Atabod
Copyright © Divine Atabod | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Divine Atabod Poem
Black Christmas.
I was bore while I was young,
My word sound odd but strong,
All match passes with different sooth and charms,
Celebrating the feast of who was known a lamb,
Was it a pleasant thing to see?
Far from my home voices heard all the hills,
My face turns black and fiord,
My heart kissed all my urging part,
A chapel I saw, old and young bent their path,
They dance with mood which change human living,
They all sing a song of jittery,
Death smell their path enclave them in slavery,
The lamb sworn this in total misery,
O ye fatal men the voices of bard cry whelminly,
Come forth thee, faithful thy soul won happily,
Receive my grace of hopeful tomorrow,
Hear to it says the lamb, I will bless thou,
Special among all things, multiple in human thinking.
By Divine Atabod
Copyright © Divine Atabod | Year Posted 2016
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