My Letter

Did you get my Letter?,

A parchment of three scrolls,

Wrapped with the stalk of rose petals,

Which I wrote on the wake of every crow,

Did you get my letter?

I sent it through a trusted friend,

An ally that’s the better,

Better than the unseen faces to send,

Did you get my letter?

Through the wind from my imaginary windowsill,

Even though I may be fetter’d,

Am just wondering if you still remember me still,

Did you get me letter?

Within its line I poured out my consciousness,

So choked to the throat of this weather,

Still I remain one with my righteousness,

Only few years away in this hole,

My clansmen bundled me away with strangers,

I blindly warm up to the shackles of my foes,

I saw the blue sky but not the dangers,

It caught me ghastly behind its trapdoor,

A quicksand to my humble leg to fight,

I saw them, My clansmen – my captor,

They sent me here for an eternity night,

So they can unguardedly mutilate our salt,

The precious salt of our clan,

The priceless heritage my ancestors fought-for,

The fatness of my land,

I refused to follow your ailing path,

O’ye the corrupt and brutal of my clan,

I refused to be among you or counted a part;

I am loyal to my first love – my motherland,

My ink may dried up of the blood of its dew,

The darkness around may swallow me whole,

I summon every celestial body of light to come anew,

Shine so strong to fill this hole,

Gather around me like a blazing flame,

Illuminate this pad torn for my skin and mind,

Strengthen my bones before silence wantonly claim,

The tiny fragments of the bargain I signed,

Before this darkness finally swallowed me whole,

I will pour the rest of me even to the marrow,

Before being consummated in a barrenness moan,

I will pour it all out even though am hollow,

I pray for this light to shine me through,

Through the dark season within this wall,

I will pour out my words even though its few,

With my Letter herein before I fall;

First to my ex-lover, the immediate one,

When will you stop your falsely hope?

Those feelings were burnt and finally gone,

You are swinging on a deathly rope,

On top a furnace beneath your home,

Your atrocities was known, why bittered?

Canker worms has filled you to the bone,

I was the one being jittered,

Beyond this wooden box I could see,

The different skeletons digging your holes,

They had you pinned to your knee,

Even some had you to the poles,

Be gone and lost o’ye Jezebel,

Read this letter and be gone,

Casted down was the last of my mercy-bell,

Be sated in your home and be gone,

I write specially to you my special one,

The special one that raised me from a seed,

The special one that my heart she won,

And especially the one that’s the offspring of my seed;

Don’t allow those kinsmen in my home,

They are after the jewel in my hold,

Those kinsmen you only saw at harvest and dome,

They are scavengers after my silver and gold,

They made my father down with the cold,

When he toiled severally to cover their skin,

We took one of their seeds to raise with the fold,

Now he is very tired and lean;

Don’t allow those scavengers in my home,

They were faraway during the struggle times,

Am with you so don’t feel at lone,

Don’t step beyond your shores to their mines;

They stood aloof while I toiled the soil,

Heed not to their hideous claims,

I only saw them twice while I was a boy,

They one want to soil our princely fame,

You know my most cherished are my words,

Remember the evangelism I took as my job,

If time could permit, I would love you more,

Remain steadfast and do not sob,

Few years away, maybe few years to come,

Liberation may come like the southern rain,

Where my essence would grow wing and be born,

And softly wash away your silent pain,

Nurture my seed both day and night,

Give our memory another live to grow,

In this hole, your faces to me is the light,

As I write in this wake of another crow,

To the rulers and chieftains of my clan,

And those of you that eats at their palms,

And those Clerics that salivates at their barn,

You bundled me here to covet my only farm,

With your scepters you tame and maim,

We came out against you with our voices and votes,

You chased after us with cutlasses and cane,

With hunger you slaughtered children, asses and goats

You rigged the election; O’ye insane

You ride and feast on our sweat,

You took our yard and made it a lair

Each protests vented is a pathway to death,

We came to talk and we ended beyond iron bar,

Are you not tired of the tearing and wailings?

Or of those lonely beings silhouette at your windows,

Those ghostly images taken to the morgue daily,

And those women you suddenly made a widow,

They will hunt you all to the shadow,

The voices of my people will dethrone you,

The forgotten will suddenly rise like an outgrow,

That springs forth overnight from a dew,

The tears of the needy will flood your abode,

The ghosts of the ritual’d will flog you all,

You will be punished  here even if you atoned,

The rulers of my clan has made us mourn.

I Pray you get this letter?

A parchment of three scrolls,

Wrapped with the stalk of rose petals,

Which I wrote on the wake of every crow,

(Poem: “My Letter” by Olorunleke Odubote)