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Comrades of our rich forests
Rulers of our precious wild resources
Arise, the forest calls
Pick your sword
Let’s write a new song
Perhaps the migrating birds
Will stay to sing it in our children’s ears
Let’s plant new trees
For the wayfarer to rest
Under it green branches
At the close of a sunny day
When we are gone, Six feet or less
The trees we plant
Will shield our graves
Under her strong wings
Let our pen (cutlass) speak
Let’s create what we want
A new environment-
Not only on the field, but in our homes
Written by: Adebote Oluwaseyifunmi
