Okoronkwo Jonathan Jackson (31/12/1987 / Ebonyi State Nigeria)

Gone so soon; long- long ago,
Our tears we shed but without running water;
Yet into the unimaginable we gaze
Wondering what it could be that went wrong.

Unto the tune of mourning we hearkened not.
All to his own desire we danced upon the lyre-
Jubilating and celebrating in merriment,
Our downfall and wasted age.

Seeking the hand of posterity,
We accuse the time of our unblissfulness;
Yet from us is come
That dead end of life to which we fear.

So a great take over:
For which to any extent we go
Scrambling and crumbling at the feet of death
All to escape the so called poverty

Slaves we become to him the great wealth
And us he maltreats and manipulates to his own accord
Because in us he sees desperation
In search of being our own god

Doth we not weep for our course?
Which like a curse is laid upon us
Though being the cause of our misfortune
See not the sight of remorse to come.

And so the black burial!
When our hearts are all soaked deep in pain
Awaiting the agony, stricken upon the cursed
Who shall wail and weep in due course

This shall be the fate of them
Who in this generation seek not the good; but
Straying and swaying in joy on that road of perdition
Without a think of what the end seems to be.