JUST MUSE

I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE

With frozen repulse, and contempt
I spit on your grave
You, the author of the roads that lead us this far
I honor you disgrace for farewell
Let your spirit tally like pendulum ring in oval of timeless struggle
As your boot laden our boneless faces with grieve.

With fury and brazen temper
I spit on your graves
You, the  rulers of our ugly history
I gift your demise a doting sleeve
As your tyrant strength abuse our comfort
Let your spirit lock where the road ceases

You that blesses us the hope of phantom living
And lashes us the whip of impunity
I spit on your grave
And deny you the victory to laugh last
I spit on your grave
You, the brutish that seat on our progress
You, that relish the mockery from our daily wailings
Let your spirit meet the earth where it cannot voice its yearnings.

You, the Judas that repress our race
I deny you the benefit of soulful honor
I spit on your grave

ogunwale Saheed 'Tunde (Mr. Wright)

All rights to this content is reserved, No part of this content may be used or reproduced in any form without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and uses permitted by copy right law. For permission requests, email the media team at: content@niwcolony.com