Dear
Apostles
Of pen
Going to the realm of struggling
centuries
I salute your courage
Now that we have put on your tongue
Jarring syllables that dread
the shadow of beast
To banquet till eternity
As toothed gums of elder soften
Kola nut into gentle munch of purpled
pieces
My teeth gnashes in the count
of your encomium
Welcome to the world
Where pen imparts the anecdote
of epochs
That
Sword
In your hand
Is the pen
That mends the torn garment of
word
Through you we shall sight the
glory of new moon
For you have pattered out of
the cradle
To the world bejewelled by
transition
Through your pen we shall
hearken
The song of dawn from
canticles of all Ages
You are the minstrels of night
Your serenades heal the
wounded heart
And halt the wailing of nocturnal
hours
You are the
Singers of
Searing
Serenades;
The voice in the gong of
town-carrier
The town crier of keen
mythology
And the phonemes in the fabric
of pen
Remember the journey beyond
river Niger
Beyond the depth of gorge and
mountain Kilimanjaro
Beyond last terrain of seventh
heaven
Where feathered whydahs hover
And sing the ballad of
cacophonous melody
There is
Nexus
Between
Us
Since you are out of darkness
And found pen in your palm
We are the comrades from
The same womb of rising sun
We know the folklore of dawn
and dusk
But tell me
What will the world fall back
on if
Our pen dies in sullen
silence?
You are the owners of pen
And shapers of taste
It is you that world looks on
Let not the dreams die!
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