REVOLUTION

Like a pottery gem

It’s modeled out of clay dug by the banks

Of a massive river of blood

Blood shed by tribal animosity

It’s moulded by the hands of callous

Political vampires,

Seasoned under the heat

Of oppression and starvation.

Like the finest gold

Its dug from the richest

Honourable-pocket mines

Sorted out in august house

Refined in I-will-never-pay-tax industry.

Like a heavy storm

It’s born out of heavy clouds of discontent

Furiously gathering under the force

Of a heavy wind of liberation

Unleashing its wrath upon the evil elites

When the weight is too much

For the clear-draught-causing heavens to bear.

So who are revolutionaries?

They are the women of courage

Women who when entangled into

Greedy political marriages

Stand, break up and divorce

Their wicked husbands.

They are the youth devoid of ethnic instincts

Youth who can’t stand drug addiction

Youth who dread political manipulation

Selfless youth not chained to corruption

Respectful youth wary of hooliganism.

 

They are the men of integrity

Who when thrown into the turbulent sea

Of corruption, political opportunism, tribalism

Nepotism, cannibalism

Get swallowed by the whale

Of self respect and loyalty

And are later vomited in the Nineveh

Of equality and justice.