The Prophecy

Mighty words they were, weakening our souls
Strong proclamations we hear, stealing our essence
The Oracle has spoken!
From the glowing west, the words flew
On the wings of "ikwikwi", the evil bird
Hear you the words from the oracle
Hear my brother, and mourn with me

"Many days shall come and go
Many years will roll like winds
But you Afri, will wallow in hunger
Steaming poverty and deepening crisis
Your things will cry with sore-filled mouths
Dirty and unclad, they shall roam the streets
Your mothers shall die before they birth
And if they birth, a little afterwards
Your fathers will wander like the cursed tribe
No farm to till, no game to hunt
Your lands shall be ever barren
Dry and crusty, bearing no fruit
Hear! Hear!! You swines, the plague of all
Your precious treasure shall be taken from you
Your pride, the Black Gold shall be no more
And then you'll bow your heads in shame
For you shall be no more than-
a fixture of disgrace
On the glowing west you must pay tributaries
Beg for food, clothes and shelter
And one day, for it will come
You! Black swines will beg for breath"

The Oracle has spoken!

    Composed by okoye precious o.