Poem of Black Africans: Wrong By Ndiang’ui


Tell me I was wrong,
For fate to make us meet,
To have a hawk’s eye,

And see your elegance,
Shine beyond the ridge where you sat,

It’s golden spark lighting me to the core.
Tell me I was wrong,

To anchor by your side,
To shelter under your warm canopy,

At a time when the storm beat its chest,
No other shelter in sight.
Tell me I was wrong,

To feel the warmth of your embrace,
To feel a conqueror in your company,
To slay the monster of bland existence,

And shimmer in your whispers of victory.
Tell me I was wrong,

To forget the sorrows of life’s voyage,
To savour your conquest of my soul,
And hone my weapons for battle,

In a new spirit of manhood.
Tell me an wrong,
To wish I was right,
In hoping its a dream,

Whose darkness ends soon,
And I rise to the old truths,
Cherished for a future of peace.
Tell me you’ve heard,
The lament of a lost soul,

Whose hope you might quash,
In your dance of spurriness,
When expectations are brimmed.
Tell me I stand a chance,
To walk you into the future,

And dare where few fear,
Shedding the yoke of fear,
Espying the new horizons,

Fearlessly gaining lost terrible,
And savouring new glories,
Of sweet shared times.
Tell me, and save my poor soul,

The induced welcome expiry.
Ndiang’ui
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