Nigeria, when did your beauty,

Doused in rarity and clement grace,

A feast to the captured eyes of suitors,

A muse to the enthused voices of minstrels,

Become the protagonist of tales told

About remnants in the bowels of yesterday?



How did your wild flames of fame,

That burned through the ears of the wind,

Across the silent oceans and restless hills,

Encapsulating the world in feverish awe,

Get quenched by the waters of corruption

Within the infant years of your freedom?

How did your foreseen blinding future,

A halo of distinguishing lights,

With the songs of angels in your eyes

Heralding a glorious tomorrow,

Turn to a perilous reality of gloom

And the plight of a defeated old hag?

I am the child of the night

Borne of the darkness of your bosom,

I am the cry of the earth

Bleeding out shrieks of your damning sins,

I am the crying child, probing, asking,

“Nigeria, how far?”

Kanyinsola Olorunnisola is a bibliophile who believes in the power of literature as a burning sword to tear through the curtains of darkness which becloud the society.  He has been published on several sites and anthologies. He has had the priviledge of clinching a few literary awards in his quest to influence the world through the might of his pen. He is the brain behind the SPRINNG Literary Movement.



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