Okirikiri ndụ ndị mmadụ Nigeria

Is there any hope, is there any light

Is there any rope to quickly end this night

Thick like crude are the sins of our past

Now crude is the feud that fuels our future

Honestly, honesty took a hiatus

Turning a blind eye to all the atrocities

All the suffering of the poor in our so called rich cities.

Littered with traces of hope that have been exploited

By these so called leaders, high in social standing

But lowly as bottom feeders in nature’s ranking

Our leaders have become fiddlers to the music of vice

Now this music has become the heartbeat of a sea of men

Who were once regarded as pacific good men

Eventually inertia has taken its course

Now many have accepted this curse

As history looks set again to repeat itself

No scope or hope for change, just a recycle of old bicycles

That have ridden and been ridden dishonestly.

Now, they are grasp for power on their last ride

While we persist, dreaming about a change that has now died.

A change that was never really alive.

Hope that was once the sweetener

Has now turned sour like vinegar

We never seem to learn despite experiences that are first hand and hard

This is the vicious cycle of life for the children of the Motherland

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