Spring rot away
The silver sun won’t run away
Till the sound of the grueling feet be here;
Will run away

Crampons to mountain in feat
Beautiful roses cried his foots in the city
“Tis gold no one has climbed the feet
Brother—black in a Roman seat

To outpace the pacing sun
Lethargy dredged without the spiked shoes
There with the father, I, scrotal son
To you my hero—1960
Propitious night incite my hero
I, September 12, the ovarian—1960

Roman olives proclaim this glory since e’er
Perturbing run in menacing wind
To mollify my dearest heart forever
My hero’s heart be brothers’ blood;
The blood: brothers’ heart

Dearest brother
With this tear I’ll celebrate your pains
Elating pains as rain tears
Kissing the feet above in sea
Time nodded in eaustary
Taming the history—this history
Never in eaustery will there be this history
The love for my black; the love for my hero

Time has ran beyond the sacrifice
In me, I could feel you sacrificed
To smile the sun on my path
Take refuge my sole!
Take refuge my soul!
To have mortified the extolled

In my hero’s deed, this moneyed heart have learnt it all

(c) 2003 Anthony Adeniyi
anthony.adeniyi@yahoo.com
(+234) 08069256743

http://anthonyadeniyi..com.ng/