© Ireti Adedipe
Vest of Poetry ( Oh Yee Tribes )
The inevitable war is prone, the all white four protruding two keratin and fatty-chop dwindles the men of truth.
Phases of Tribes, elongate and patriot, men in silver robe of the northerners, clapping their hands as a member of truth and a member of peace, of Serenity, of love and false pretense of work-hand.
Animals are heading the territory and asserting ultimate authority, hoping to keep their fats, their lungs and their belly, hopefully forever. Animals in blue and silver with black tires, hoping to remain the factor and the capital of all.
Oh I see wars !!!
Oh I see the impending prophecy of the celestial.
Oh I see wailing men and women, just like the days of Owu’s.
Oh I see impending gnashing, mainly responsible for the fatty and the greediness.
Greediness elope them and the surge to keep themselves safe ignited the war.
This people are morons, animals worthy to eat dirt, to feed on the grass just like their big white four legs lovers.
They are mostly haired, uneducated pure blacks. Somewhat whites with pop-up eyes and rusted edges of wood on their shoulders.
Their foot are dirt
Their tongue are dirt’s
Their clothes are torn and the belt strapped on their dirty trouser partly held the size of their waist, Clearly implying poverty and illiteracy.
Their phases uttered murmur and their foot are a drenching fire of cold metal blood,
They are murderers, killers, and they roam round the vicinity of our boundaries with their beloved fatty four legs lovers, devouring our plants, our crops and our harvested fruits.
Headed our territory, I am not blasphemy
We are different vibes and tribes, we cannot cope anymore
we have different reasons for living and different jobs for sustenance.
Oh cry oh the city,
Oh cry on the celestial,
Our fellows blood are spilled fearlessly on the street of our boundary, they’ve committed no offense yet run helter skitter.
Our tribe’s are in peril and our crops deserted, our farms taken and our family murdered.
Oh I see wars,
Oh I see the impending tribal war,
The vested prophesy of the celestial, the war of death, of agony and pain
Oh should we wait patiently till we are annihilated?
Oh should we stay indoors with a zipped lips till our brothers are completely reformed useless?
Oh should we wait with our eyes hopefully looking at the sky and help from the celestials?
Oh should we desert our tribes, our lands, our crops beyond our boundaries?
Oh should we watch crow devouring our dead’s right at the middle of the street while we watch from the inside?
Echoes of war, gnashing of teeth, agony and pain,
For we must take up arms,
For we must make the echoes and shouts of disperse, voices as one, combine our strengths and defend our territory from the lovers of the fatty four legs and anonymous elders
Known as Animals in human flesh
Haters of peace, haters of prosperity
Haters of Serenity, haters of Unity and
Lovers of greediness
Dispatch should be our cries,
Let the shouts and echoes reflect on the grounded walls of the city and on the great fences of our country
Let our children roam the city with their cries and our women reoriented,
Let our agile men rose for the liberty of our tribe,
Let them attack the imperial leaders, the animals in human flesh, whose feet are glued on the kinship seats
To find peace, we must make war
To defend our lands, we must do what needs be
The lovers of the fatty four legs aren’t ready, so let them see the wrath of our strong hold.
Hear, oh you tribes !!
Fight for your kingdom and rise against the lovers of the four fatty legs.
Written by Ireti Adedipe.
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