The Nigeria we dismounted

Days gone by..

The echoes of that madness we call our home..

Nights come near..

The sadness of our missed opportunity..

To build a home we can call our own.

 

We rally to our confusion..

We sleepwalk in our tantrums..

The drums of war are all laid bare ..

And we sing that joyful requiem…

On the day of our blurred existence…

 

We mask our sadness with empty tales..

We let our sad lies becloud our reason..

The reality of our fake reality..

That abracadabra we call our own..

 

We let the hungry hyenas lead our lambs…

The suffering we clothe in empty spirituality..

We call on the gods even when we hold our destiny..

Our continuous falls to our falsehood..

 

Let our sole continue its match to the hole..

Let the hopeless hope of our existential nonexistent exist..

Take us close to the undertaker’s home..

Let the bells toll on this day of the marmot..

The day we all looked the other way as they stole our nation again.

 

Let the doors of hell remain closed..

But it’s depth of death continue to knock..

Let the lights go off..

So the shame of this day will in its darkness remain.

 

We tend to kill what we love..

Or how can we explain this patriotic hatred.

How can we put fire on our roofs..

While we smilingly slept like urchins..

That is our sad reality..

 

That reality…

That insanity..

That infamy..

That oddity..