By Nehi Igbinijesu
What relief got we
When the strongman died
For life thought we
Came here him with
Debasing, demanded, demeaned
With plot and posh plunder
Arts livid and lying wonders
Lorded quilt recklessly
Cried fretful, and squealed
For blood, sweet and stay
Yet in death- humbled
Vociferously liver hushed
Laid to rest, quadrangled
Untimed by everyman’s visitor
To tell no more the future
Of grown made men free
Released into the abode
A gently dangling glee!
That placed no more
In strongman’s tired hand
Yours and our destiny
This Poem is part of the anthology of 30 Poems titled: “Dirges of The Niger” By Nehi Igbinijesu.
