My Thought

The beautiful flowers lie,
Wet with diaspora wine,
Nurture in beautiful Nile,
A beautiful garden with tide.

As days grow older in phase,
Man sorrow bewildered it face,
Making the homeland a pace,
Accommodating unrest and lame.

Even though we're different in tribe,
Ethnic, culture and ties;
Should we deface the aim,
Which our father unite the land.

After praising our fathers'path,
Shedding our neighbors blood;
Oppressed by our fathers'comrade,
Who fought to bloom our garden.

All in all was nothing,
Compare to our blood and friendship,
Lost in bias nature of ethnic,
Filled with sensitivity but bloody.

Where are thou! Old days,
Oh love! We seek your ways,
Fill our hearts with your being;
Unite our land with your peace.


© Adesunwon HB