It's a world where;
There are Blacks,
And there are Whites-
A chemistry that lacks differences
A fabaceae-
Which spreads across the globe
A display of entities;
Baked by the creator's ace until
Until actions cut across reactions;
Leaving a union of separation
(amongst nations)
A colloidal suspension;
Where unity-
Is at its melting point,
Evaporating beyond any rating system
I've seen-
Welcomes welcomed by goodbyes
Shallow justice;
Dipped into deep injustice¤
Trust blended by betrayal
Blames passed like footballs¤
A jar of lies;
Now left ajar-
As falsehood flows,
In the Island of Truth
It's a world where;
The earth is the country,
Of both the blacks and the whites
It's a world of mixtures

In my land-
There are roads,
With no signs but wonders
There are passages;
Littered with broken promises,
Leaving dwellers with wounded feats

Echoes of 'change' fills the air,
As sneezing hopes gather dust
Gradually,
Undulated zeals are diluted;
Leaving watery goals

Beyond the surface-
I see sore faces;
Curtained behind a broad smile,
A smile broad enough-
To conceal pain from blind minds¤
I see feeble hearts,
Dancing to the melodies of deceit
I see the sea thirsty
Laws baked in flawed flours
Pure pain mixed up for strength;
By the chefs of ignorance
In my land,
These roads are also rode by rogues
These passages inhabits rusted promises
The roads fight to live,
As citizens-
Are left with mixed chores
Indeed,  it's a land of mixtures

To be continued.....

Hopes were shot high,
By the arrows of prattle words
Echoes of the promise-land filled the air;
Choking all atoms of doubts in the heart of all
Near that victorious cry,
Stood our laughter of defeat;
For our independence unleashed,
Irrepressible dependency

Stuck in the mud of paltry gain
We lingee on this same old gibberish
As blind minds lead feeble hearts,
We stagger and scuffle through this slippery aisle
Stripped of her retrospective script,
We pace about in this desert of falsehood
Like sheep in heaps of obfuscation,
Engulfed in a nightmare whose morning is held

Alas! Let sleeping pens wake
Shaking off the dust of ignorance
Husking the mask of corruption
Building our broken bridges,
With words of golden cement
Fervidly liberating our own
From the claws of myopia

Let dormant ink flow
For the rate of blood flow (in our land) grows
Staining the minds of our people with colours of wrath;
As our peace lays suffocated by the hands of greed

Let us fight
For so long have the might of our peb remained inertia
Let us wrestle,
Not with pistol but with weapons of salted words
Let us battle;
Not with swords but with words of coal;
Melting through the frozen hearts of men.

#fightingthewarsthatbringpeace