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Mannytheplaywright Nigeria Graphics design, Human Resources. @ Redeemers University
In Nigeria • 1 min read •
Forgotten Tongues
<p>Slowly we forget what it was like to speak in archaic tongues,</p><p>Generation after generation our words are chiseled as shafts from wood.</p><p>Urbanisation never looked to preserve it, taking the heart of soil, psalms, songs, and toil.</p><p>Aliens to our coarse archipelago, our rainbow rumpled.</p><p><br/></p><p>The soil we toiled covered with tar,</p><p>Clay huts are destroyed for cement and bricks,</p><p>Our methods and tools lost all their spark,</p><p>Little by little we become a pickle of what their mountains are.</p><p><br/></p><p>The sun we worshipped is now tagged toxic,</p><p>Stay indoors, apply sunscreen to avoid sunburns.</p><p>Nothing feels of origin, as origin was sold for porridge.</p><p>Even the air we now breathe is cooled.</p><p><br/></p><p>The technology we call modern has come to gobble up our coins,</p><p>Stain our soil!</p><p>Capitalism, come forth!</p><p>Lead this mass into your gullible toil.</p><p><br/></p><p>Finance declining, debt upon debts,</p><p>Ripped off our resources, that we regret.</p><p>Failure we hate but can't reject so we embrace and fly on rat feet.</p><p>As ancestors watch the younglings with the trials that led whilst they fled.</p><p><br/></p><p>Take me back to my father's land,</p><p>To see my true, pure core,</p><p>Not as the days of old,</p><p>But to feel the love of sand play once more</p><p><br/></p><p>I will let my children see the arcane we burned,</p><p>Imbue in them an artifact that bleeds from them in our remembrance.</p><p>They, who kept in courtesy of our culture, </p><p>To sing our forgotten tongue once more.</p>

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