With the arms of the mountains in protection
Tell me the brooms that sweep nightmares into heads
Show me the airs that aid their heads into homes
Is it the calls of horny beads of widows for what fate has snatched from their sides?
Or the rumbling stomachs of widowers for their gone lovers?
Tell me Odikro, protector of peace
There should be many things that little head heard
To drive it into flights of fright
When darkness yoked the earth
And day strolled outside earth
Tell me Odikro, all seeing
What you saw from her inverted pupils in sleep
Could it be because the ancestors
Have been replaced by prophets and saints?
Could it be because the gods have been booted from heaven doors
That we shout in vain to reach the heavens?
Could it because seers have been mistaken for devils
With plucked eyes and defeated souls?
Tell me Odikro, this itchy ears need it
If the shrines call for fowls in tones undecipherable
And the trees feel the disturbances in sways unreadable
Write us a letter in our sleep
Not nightmares which stretches goose bumps of fear to our skin
We are your children after all
No matter our colours, no matter our greed
We are the results of your lovemaking with thoughts