PRECIOUS STONE by 2edged Pen


Let us pay to you 

Homage that is true

For in eminence you are throned

With a visage that is stoned 

Across the Niger, I heard 

Your tales have spread 

Like fresh palm oil on the hand 

When a finger into the oil bowl does land
“What are you?” 

We always wonder

Your lores, a tome I always ponder 

on; But elusive to me you always are

Like gazelle pursued by lions from afar
Zuma, a beauty rare to behold 

But when I spoke your smile was cold

Uneasy you lie for the crown does itch

Speak and save nine with a timely stitch 

For your rage on Aso who has snatched your patrimony

And offered Jacob’s porridge of acrimony
Boast at least in your towering prominence 

And to witness the nation’s nascence

But do not be to boastful 

For we harbour a trait that makes us wasteful 

And like a mother wishes not :

You might see your child, this nation 

Die down and rot .
©2017 2edged Pen 


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