Sound the trumpets
Signal the crowd..tell Africa about this golden tale.this winter dream that came in trance...
Then she came with beauty and illusion like the ancient Helena...
Though I felt her love warming the angles of my heart..she pump fantasy and beauty...reflecting the true Nigerian princess...
Nothing to compare when time fly she wheeled from Bokkos the Golden City....
Now it fly to Ameju where we all turnup the blue with colonies of memories and dreams..it all went into ashes when we told these tales under the marshes of our eternal corner stone...
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