PROLOGUE

That I may be heard
From the convention of false-truths
Rewriting histories in chalkboards
Of revamped archaic traditions
……………………
That I may be heard
From the burning coal
Littering the foil of hope;
Thru the mouth of stones,
And thru the bones of buzzards
………………………
That I may be heard
In these ego-renting times
Where minors are strapped
With baked fear
On the pastel of major struggles
…………………………
That I may be heard
From the blood of my pen
Piercing the hearts of kings,
Oxygenating dead-ends
Of weak olive branches
…………………………..
That I- the truth may be heard.

Iyeomoan, Ehizogie