I lay waste to quasi freedom
Won from an amalgamation bereft of imagination
With leaders whose vision bedims all inspiration
As corruption dredges up in gassy progression
And freedom lies prostrate in tyrants chains.
Awe at the echo of the voice of papacy
From the paucity of clergies
I am drenched by the dew of bad governance
Our miseries are palpable
While development diminishes like smoke
Then I wonder if our freedom is from yonder!
What is freedom? When tyrants dishes chains to opposing voices
I feel the throe of our final woes
They thirst for blood in spurs abroad
To echo freedom in chant of cradle grave
From the natural inlets of justice
In slowly sympathy and chastening truth
I raise my fist in trust for our gains
As freedom wanes introspection!!!
