Triumphs in all odds
By Atok Dan
In all the odds, he triumphed,
he marched over the odds of the injustices,
for he was a man that conquered mindset of oppressors,
to rewrite distorted history
he was a man whose ink dried on papers,
in the land of dishonored agreements
he triumphed to change the unchanged,
When I recall,
the time his armies bowed in the torrential rains of bullets
he triumphed
he conquered self-professed armies of gods,
when I still recall,
the time he commanded his armies to capsize boats of lies,
he triumphed in the land of fallacies
for if I still bog my mind to invent the wheel,
I see his strides,
I still see a finished job,
he did
When I still lift my head up amidst disarrays,
my psyche reminds me of flood of blood,
which flooded all the highlands of our country’s sides,
my mind still recall all the whirling birds that,
fatten on their fleshes,
the corpses of armies,
the collateral damage of the battle
An when I still lift my head up in meditation,
my eyes still stumble on relics of war,
the traces of bones that littered in the savannah,
the ornaments of beasts which fed of them
I still vow of living memories of ungodly people on the land,
when still reminded of the cries and wailing of innocents,
sorrows of widows and orphans,
I still remind of the cause of war
I still see generations marching into wild forests of our country
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