The Emperor marvels at his achievements
The authority that make common folks bow
He boasts; I am Oduduwa himself, I am above replacement.
Knowing not death lurks in the shadows awaiting his soul now
At dawn his subjects mourn, At dusk an heir is imminent
The warlord spends time polishing his medals
His barrelled guns lined up on the wall with pride
He Thunders; I am invincible! I am “Ogun” the General
A coup is plotted in his backyard, waiting on the night’s tide
The perished Gladiator, His usurper wears his sandals
All day long, The Farmer peruses his Fields
Selecting Shallots and Silk, collecting Coffee and Cotton
He Wonders Aloud; Am I not Òrìșà-Oko? Is my garden not Eden? What glorious fruits it yields!
Alas! They arrive in swarms; locusts feast what’s good leaving what’s rotten
There; The “self-made” Farmer is made to starve, His green garden made brown like bronze-coated shield
His aim is an Eagle eye’s view
Shoots Damaging blows to bears and Elephants and wears their skin
He says to other Hunters; I am definitely “Osoosi”, By my hand all these I ensue
But It came unexpectedly, the water dries up, the fields die, trees wither and kids grow thin
The drought being a better Hunter kills all game before he pursues