I have sometimes from myself
inquired,
and from all else I have
required,
about this mystery much more to
know,
where the hell were they
all,
when Oyibo rolled up our treasures to
haul..
The prowess of our shrines, our
fetish,
with powers we abundantly
cherish,
derived from rocks, trees or
rivers,
power drenched to give you the
shivers,
yet still the Dutch, Danes and the
English,
rolled up our shores, their greed to
furnish.
No doubt our priests were well
immersed,
with spiritual powers they were greatly
possessed,
for we revere some shrines for good
deeds,
providing rain to meet our farming
needs,
as others the truth remains as
well,
wore crowns from the pit of
hell.
Call it sorcery, black magic or much
more,
a mystery, history, religion from our
core,
yet when our sons and daughters were loudly
exported,
in, shackles, our lands looted, so our past
reported,
our fetish priests left wide open, our front
doors,
And hit the bunkers, when Oyibo rolled up our
shores.
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