My brother be
Calm amongst withered grain
Come join me
From life's ebb we shall refrain
Your failing eyes half blindly
stare and glimpse this fevered face
Valediction
You marked this earth with calloused hands
Broke bread amongst your kin
Another haggard conquered pawn
A discarded volunteer
A husk with an idea of life
With eyes burning like fire
Valediction

Cast aside these earthly woes
You wove this tapestry of battles
I'll pay you pittance for your days
Yet loosen all your shackles
I am the seer in the dark
The vagabond of yore
Valediction
I am the sum of all your parts
And proprietor of all
A miasma
The conclusion
Blackmonger of Inlé
Valediction

Synapses fray
My form now vivid
As torpor sets and blood grows tepid
With every ounce of flesh now offered
I hold your corpse within my coffers
Knitted cells now split asunder
Stand alongside me brother
Take your place amongst my Owsla
We march at dawn now and forever
Cross your palms and acquiesce
Take a bow as they ascend
Scent these grounds with your presence
Ring the change of days now done

We wane in remembrance
Drained by our scorn
The flocks of the patriarch throttled
Forlorn
We gasp with epiphany
Perception unmasked
Ranks of black muslin litter out path

Empyrian empties
On our woeful malaise
Engulfs and entwines our impious parade
These are the embers
The fetid ideal
The end of our chastity
Allow us to feel
Nerves remain tender
To touch makes us cry
We see through these windows now become eyes
Our burden is heavy
As we ascend
Like blemished flesh
The earth seems to rent
Pustules of faces
Mouths like crevasse
Our weathered coherence lost to morass

Our debts are paid to this epoch
Sanctimonious
No remorse
The king is dead!
The king is dead!
We bound his face!
Cut off his head!
We spit at thee
We curse at thee
The king is dead!
Brothers and sisters
The king is dead!
Cut him down
Flay his skin
Our god is dead!
Courtisans!
Compatriots!

Lend me your ears
We slayed this demagogue
Dragged it to its knees
We cut all the sycophants
Deafened their call
We gave back the willing to better us all
We will not go quiet
We will not be restrained
We will not be slaves to an impotent regieme
Mark this in remembrance
The turning of tides
Our nascent republic
Born of (his) demise
The nativity!
Our elegy!
To this reform!

Like fingers they claw at the sky
Pylons of a pompous foray.
Sentinels to look down upon with vacant eyes
We kindle our willing to strive
To remain separate.
A farewell to the spoils of fate
In shallow graves

We dig a hole deep in the earth
Dig it deep to hide all our guilt
A trio of sarcophagi - triadic deceit
The quagmire could swallow whole
The black well of our malady
We grasp tight of offered hands
To stem the flow of defeat

We pick the bones cleans of their worth
Whisper (sweet) nothings into empty warrens
Mock prayers to revel within
Who has seen better days?
Zealots practice silent vigils
We turn out attention upon their axis
Imitations inured with former glory
We ignore their remorse

At the crux of our nation
The cornea dies
Spills out dissension
A barrage of cries
Written in looks and glanced rebellion
We gather these ugly wounds
Weep words opposition
Tilled fields bare bitter fruit
Tendrils like needles furrow and root
Clasped hands dig nails through skin and through wood
Gouge out the terms of our parenthood
Those who would summon
To court these assumptions
To cut out the blemish of the idiot prince
The godhead resides within the welt of coercion
Defiles the virtue of all our children

The accent of piety
The idiot prince
Pigheaded
Exalted and guilty as sin

We no longer cower in his necrotic penumbra
The prophetic repugnance wore out long ago
The call is heard
The word is given
The throng descends upon his eminence
Attempted offerings
He weeps in his woe
The walls of his womb rock to an fro
We will come knocking
With baited breath
The scent of the apostate rife with repent
With icons dismantled
The firmament cleansed
We carve out new effigies and runes in the sand
Faces of kindred
Faces of kind
The worship of kinship fuels starving minds

Where we lay
We will build
Though we may falter
We will build

The onus of power shifts in its cradle
The locks on the doors brittle
Unable
We splinter the timber, stand over the general
The jabbering magnate
Dethrowned and devoured
Dismember!
Scour this mantle!
We lingered far too long
Smelt the chains!
Leave nothing unturned!
We suffered far too long

We can account for the scars in our sides
Yet we are not privy to the thoughts that we discard
Those who would break us
Nurture our despair
But still we cherish those who we revile
We take this battle in our fortitude
The war of will yet to be resolved

We broke the font from which we sup
Bit hard upon the nape of our chaste and drew blood
Take refuge in our commune
Orphans
Staccato souls
Scrawled identities
Captives of our consecration

Is this our dowry
The sorrow of our loss?
Do we inflict our young with the horrors of our past?
We use these imperfections as markers
Vestige points
We have so much to gain
So little left to loose
Lay bare this soil
A marred ambit
Borders bound by slick hraka
Towers of salt carve out tracks
Cleaved in two by careless hands
The word is rife
The harbinger
It clings to us this Efrafa
Homba
Lendri and Yonil
It rises like vomit within us all

The weakening words spread out in ares
The urge to flee
Cowardice engulfs
Our hands are raised in unison
Brandished tools
Branded skin
Cut away
Like so much meat
We forged new scars against ill repute
We hold on tight to one another
I am legion for we are many