Relics Of Slavery Poem by Victor Okechukwu Anyaegbuna

I've sat unperturbed in the awing morass
Of direly aspiring unprovoked minds,
That sought to control of my hallowed wits,
That I have nurtured and honed to great heights.
I've shunned disaster in my feeble skill
To deter misfortunes crafted to kill;
That sought guiltless love from the bum of hate
And brewed from hops of darkness, hurtful light.

I've stood unbound by relics of slavery
That contrive power and wealth from revelry
Sprayed as nets over oceans of canons
On a massive bogey that imprisons
From sharp shots that lose aim but shatter poise
Where fear, fervor and bonds define the wise.
On bandied ambition to poison minds
Of rash faithful in the race to court bliss.

I have dared foretelling and prophesy
Spurned by vast invisible energy,
That incandescent aura scared away,
Unperceived, with astounding acclaimed sway
Of clairvoyance on simple deception,
But launched fake devotions and starvation,
To send bottled pressures to liberty,
Feign meddling, and prop credibility.