#Warofwords4 WHAT IS LEFT OF WHAT IS RIGHT by Audu Lucklyn

WHAT IS LEFT OF WHAT IS RIGHT by Audu Lucklyn 

Clipping the wings of these eaglets
Chains of bronze now their anklets
Anklets to the legs of these compatriots
Freedom is now given to parrots
Lions remain in a cage
And all ears deaf to their rage
What is left of what is right

With echoing voices they said “till death do us part”
But now they create the death path
Once the sun glowed in their eyes so bright
But now they struggle to see the light
Their children now their referees
To their own selves they are captives
What is left of what is right

She is sixteen
All she craves for is sixty-nine
She has a gardener
But he himself wants to trample on her
He burnt his first sticks
When he was yet six
What is left of what is right

The clicking of their swords
Is louder than the message from their gods
They always criticize
But they themselves do not equalize
Gratifying and imposing their wrong deeds
Like the chain on the neck of a dog…”evil deeds”
What is left of what is right

Man takes shade in pains
Eating the remains of the pain grains
And dying daily from the attack of ganged diseases
Man must take his stand or his end this is
The shield of man is made of rods
But it is being shattered and eaten by worms, it rots
What is left of what is right

There is still a talking pen
There is still a tunnel, an escape from pain
A pen that draws help and attention
Barrier breaker sword of solution
There is still a voice, a mic cry
Through which the dying cry
That is what is left of what is right

The sun is never late at waking up
Though the ozone is breaking up
The stars always glow
The sky’s blue follows
The rain though crying never regrets
Nature is left of what is right
That’s what is left of what is right

There’s an open arm at the cross
A bridge through which we could cross
An amalgamation of all
In a lovely decorated wedding hall
The groom in an unnamed designers’ suit
The bride, her gown,decorated with banana passion fruit
That’s what is left of what is right

The waving of the flag I sight
The running down of evil men like rain from a height
The hands of millions I hear
The feet of strong men my feet pioneer
Crowns of gold cast on my head
Ice poured and evil held
We are what is left of what is right.

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