The Secret Truth of the Forest.

Our fathers would summon us

Under the opium of the moonlight

To tell us a story

A story their father told them

A story of prophecy and illusion

A story of Iroko, Mahogany and the Oak

With much innocence they came

To foster our unity

With guilt in their grin

Our fathers cried

Mother Nature comforted

Funeral dancers in green robe

The forest is desolate

Yet we are ready to rise again

And shake the bones in the grave.


Olasehinde Adeolu.