There’s much
to lose when love is least
There’s all
for gain if love is most
For love
permeates ethno-religious coasts
For those
who toil to break our bonds
We shall
cremate you with dry palm fronds
To wipe our
nation off chronicles of war
And save ourselves
this casualties’ galore
For they
that swig from cauldrons of gold
Our nation’s
brown broth, hot or cold
Days
approach when the people’s revolt
Shall gulp
your souls or cause you to bolt
Well, love
may not have bought us freedom
But love can
build us a utopian kingdom
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