20.10.2020


The earth has fully travelled around the sun,
Since the day Nigerian government shot eternal sadness into our heart
Rain might have washed away the
bloodstains at the lekki tollgate
But our heart still bleeds just like 365 days ago.

Sometimes I wonder what we did wrong
Because all we did was asking for a Nigeria of our dreams
By asking for the Nigeria of our dreams, what did we got?
Compounded us into more griefs by trying to break our resolve

And from the crumbs of our falls,we will gather again
Accompanied by the spirit of those patriotic folks who lost their lives in that rightful wars,
Together we will March and voice out our grievance in unison,
But this is not Only about endsars,we want to know who ordered the killings of our modern day heroes

365 days ago was the day Sun melted to the seas
and the day moon wept crimsons
The arm of hope we carried was too short
a paddle for us to swim to the bank of victory
as the wailing of the innocent souls were earshoted earshoted by our heads

365 days, The Earth orbited the sun
and the furious songs of the rapid gunshots sounds like yesterday
The dancing bullet cases were too busy to witness
their tenants driving through the higway of our modern heroe's belly on high speed
A loss of a mother waiting for a son to return

365 again, is what we are counting
Their souls a rapid course they laid
A cripple country whose legs were head
The bed of Roses you laid is a bush of thorn
if mother nature can hear, let this courses repeat every 365 days on their children


#Folorunsho Mike Iyanuoluwa

Aiyamrex:
365 days ago was the day Sun melted to the seas
and the day moon wept crimsons
The arm of hope we carried was too short
a paddle for us to swim to the bank of victory
as the wailing of the innocent souls were earshoted earshoted by our heads

365 days, The Earth orbited the sun
and the furious songs of the rapid gunshots sounds like yesterday
The dancing bullet cases were too busy to witness
their tenants driving through the higway of our modern heroe's belly on high speed
A loss of a mother waiting for a son to return

365 again, is what we are counting
Their souls a rapid course they laid
A cripple country whose legs were head
The bed of Roses you laid is a bush of thorn
if mother nature can hear, let this courses repeat every 365 days on their children


#Folorunsho Mike Iyanuoluwa

beautiful