Known Unknown

I am afraid of what to do next, Of the next item on the menu I am afraid of my own agenda One I haven't concieved.

I have patiently waited night and day I have humbly stood by dusk till dawn Solemnly standing there, come the scorch of the sun Or the pelts of the rain storm Waiting for him to return.

I have seen dirty water in gutters Not knowing, not asking what it washed To make it dirty; or Whether it ever washed anything.

He is never wrong in his calculations. Just as a monkey vaults from one branch to the next, Never falling, never missing a step, Apt and precise in his "off books" documentation. He never misses his numbers, they are forever spot on.

Koríko I have been here all year long, Affixed to this same spot. Stagnant, like the waters of a dirt puddle I have tried and failed, failed to move my feet; The turf beneath me holds me back.

I was born naked, I have nothing therefore I have got nothing to lose. The cravings of my heart are unknown to you and I know not yours. What I want and what I need, are the two things most importantly key to my success.

There I stand, at the gate, Hoping that soon is I shall be let in. My heart, dried to the last fibre like kilishi,

With all due respect I hear I have no authority to ask you questions, There are galaxies full of them I would love to. But the sadder part of not being able to question you, Is not being able to question my inability to question you. Wait, that was confusing. What I meant to say was, I can't even question why I can't question you. Why then do I have free will and choices?

Bojú Bojú, olórò n bò Do you remember the saying "wa bá erù re n'íbodè" It says you will be duly rewarded at the end Well, you have missed it.

I am not afraid to die, but I am scared of death. It's not the termination of life that gets me, It's what comes after. The loneliness in my grave, The silence in my coffin.

My thoughts are melancholic, My chest feels like it's going to break, Break from all the tightening.

I no longer care. I don't care  For all the things you do. I don't  want a part in them, Leave me be.

Maybe tomorrow I LL wake up and there will be nothing left Nothing left of what used to belong to me And then I ll sit back to think of where and how Where it all went wrong and how I missed it How I missed the signs right underneath my nose

Aanwo Bóyá yíó dọmo At least that was what they said They didn't bank on me lasting this long But they sure knew I would leave They thought it would be sooner Still, they waited so long for my demise

Àgunlá They run towards me like an army of the dead. Standing there alone, with no weapons to defend my already defeated spirits It looks like they will stop, it looks like they wouldn't,  still I stand.

Red taillights, green vegetation Dark skies, windy nights Winding roads, bumpy rides Welcome signs, goodbye signs Loud music, racing vehicles "Broken" waists, stiff backs Yet we March on.

Let us pray Let us open our hands and hearts Let us connect our invisible umbilical cords Back to the source that birth our beings Let us latch on to the genesis of our  walk

I have lost it I have lost my sight I have lost it I no longer see I have lost it I have lost sight of the light I can't see it but it surrounds me In my hole, there is a lot of it Blinded by it, yet it's all around me I no longer see the light

Erin Kárelé o wá jọba Ẹ ma jábó Èyin tín gbé ọrí àga gíga tẹ eni kúkúrú mólè A ti mò yín Èyin ògbènù òkùnkùn tafà sínù ìmólè Kò sí àyè fúnnyín Èyin ẹni ibi tín wọso funfun gba èjẹ̀ lára omo owó Owó á tèyín Èyin tín gba ọ̀mìnira lówó alágbára Isé yín á bàjé Èyin tín fúni ní omi ìnira mu torí àtije yìn.

Ìràpadà The stones we throw at our own glass houses, the cracks we install in our fortresses. The mends we force from the fear of extinction, the worse the damage when we attempt correction.

Olodumare Olodumare Olodumare ooo, The only being whose names are more than his worshipers put together, deliver us from the confusion of Onileorita, the entity who is no man's friend, yet no being's enemy. Lakaaye Osinmole, the god whose yard is lined with barrels of water yet showers with blood, I beseech you, shower not with our blood and protect us from the evil of the road, strenghten our hoes and cutlasses so that our heaps of yam may hold.

We Who serve Lost and confused, astray and missing. We who are down below, the proletarians we are.  Lost with the wind like the ripped half of a tailless kite, We sway and travel to the tandem of the turbulence in the storm. We think we float and yet we tumble and struggle to keep acouse. When we finally drop to the ground like a bird dead mid flight, The realization hits us and our eyes actually open.

Èlàlònà From the pit of enmity, the friends we hope to last with. They jump out and take to their heels. The constant consciousness in effort to marry the facts that son of Lágbájá Is gone, no longer on our side in the battle of life.