I see the joy
Of our labour beckoning in the loins
of the new sunrise:
Landsmen, this old night too shall wither…
Then, Karizimbes
Shall be Rift valleys & the Atlantic
Feed streams, as kings fall
At the feet of the servants their voices once commanded
Then,
Old irokos shall give way to their seedlings,
Snakes flee at the sight
Of worms & monkeys be served by gorillas…
Then, these
Tears put on the cheeks of
Princes & Princesses
Shall give way to never fading smiles
Then, the once men-made god,
Nebu shall know he is man,
Man and not a god;
Man in whose veins blood stream, at the mercy of men—
Man who is man!
Yes, the old sun is set to set
And, Power shall be
For the people who for long have been down
And then,
A new beautiful day shall be birthed
This is the voice of Revolution.
Aluta! Continua!
Oswald Okaitei ( c )‘18
