The water is boiling once again.
Agitation between the three stands of the pot
The center is struggling to hold
The pot, an egedege dancer
Left, right, left and right again
To the beats of the Igba, it danced.

On the altar of freedom and peace,
Lifeless heaps, red splatters on broken earth;
Roasted yams with sprinkled palm oil on broken earthenware,
A perfect offering to the ‘freedom and peace’ gods.

The truth and the false;
An indifferentiable mix.
Its end product; more confusion, war
A perfect state of mind.

Justitia, her bundle on her head
Had long flee to her homeland.
Her staff of office, back to Amadioha, Sango & Almighty Allah
But then, they too had deserted our land.