West Africa Poem by segun Johnson Ozique

Heart of West is a land with buried, earthly blessings
Of numeric metallic elements beyond silver or gold
Such beyond, richly flowing in deep red and black
Abundantly free flooding - goldenly sparkling too;
But often confusingly plashing like the chameleon - it is;
Sometime red as in blood, red as in palm or thickly black as in crude

This west land, full of sweet and venomous souls
Like no other continent has or can ever breed
Land that though the streets run in cloaks of daggers
Veiled with transparent disguising clothing;
Whinger wielded in the darkened amberoid daylight
This west as in other region, no one sees or hear, chiefly, no one dare tell