Gory has become their glory.
Who shall attest the test?
Hope is nearly gone.
But my generation is not done.
Fate has dealt its metallic rein
Upon the four sent to learn.
Eventuality now certainty:
Is this the best that can be attained?
“They said,” they said –
Wonni, wonni is not sure.
Who called the judgment?
Who cast the first stone?
Whither do we go from here?
What do we hope to adhere?
Some screamed lynch them!
Others cried justice!
When comes our deliverer?
Or should we hope for another?
Questions arise.
Solutions abide.
Now to your graves oh foursome!
Your blood shall speak of the fearsome.
On the day of the white judgment –
Even the judges shall be adjudged
Gory has become their glory.
Who shall attest the test?
Hope is nearly gone.
But my generation is not done.
meet the poet: Princess Okolie
