The darkness was clearly breeding light,

The proverbial "wicked ones" was retreating in their shield,

History says it's time for another fight,

Another journey about to commence on the same flight.




The birds sang in their finest voice,

Tied with the palm wine tapper was the dancing gourds,

The chief high priest ferociously engage his God,

Offering different appease just for him to hear it voice.






The grass scampered for safety as the machete strikes,

As the fisherman basked at the multitude of his catch,

The cab driver gently roared life into his gear,

While he secretly prayed for an itch free day to "Ogun" the God of iron and ore.




Quadri,quadri!!! My mom voices snapped me out of my thought,

Lazily I rolled my sleeping mat safely to the back of the door,

In front of me was a truckload full of house chores,

I was hit with realization that it's 5:30am of another day.


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