Is it that land, flowing with honey yet polluted with filth ?
Is that that people with immerse beauty yet scarred with torture?
Is that that place where stars are birthed but never allowed to shine?
Was it not yesterday we clamoured for freedom?
Why do we live in shackles now?
An epitome of God's finest blessings now a specimen of affliction
A nation so endowed now has its
trails filled with thorns of bitterness.
Is it this land
where glimpses of an
ensuing success
meanders about in a bleak environment
and still besieged by unworthy
and odious harbingers?
The labours of our heroes past!
Is only but a song whilst we languish
But we keep singing
Till our voice give way
To the break of a new dawn when we can appease the blood of our brothers with the land they dreamed of and died for.
Blessed or cursed?
How do you tell a history yet unfinished?
