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In the names of the poets that birthed this madness I open the face of this poem from the city of stillness I hum from the Forest Of A Thousand Daemons I draw Abeokuta from my palm like wind will draw anklet to her feet In the seating is a empress rock And a too-old-looking muster tree I tiptoed like a dew Followed the trail of a noble scion to his home My lines grew grey on their own Led me into an old waterfall that glows from Egba village A metaphor on the fingers of Europeans homage A firewall of Nigeria literature A caterwaul in the mouth Of Africa pharaohs I gazed into the Chronicles From The Happiest People On Earth I lost my way but I pick The Road Son If You Must Set Forth At Dawn Rise before the sun will smirk at your courage Of a poet that birthed this madness May his boldness lead you to the city of happiness.