BIAFRA: FREEDOM IS NOT FREE, WAKE UP BIAFRANS !
A poem to rekindle our light
By Kings JV Chibuzor
For Family Writers
At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom, even as slaves humbles themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them. In the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff. And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fulfillment.
Off to war they marched and still, Tough not always their will, They marched on for their country to be free, They marched on to die if need be, They left their families and their homes, Not to know what awaits them where they go, They pushed forward with no second thought, They pressed on through those whom they fought, They watched as their friends fell, Protecting this country that they loved so well, Remember Those who serve the flag, for if it was not for them we would never be glad, Just like those men in the days of old, Who for their country and freedom they knew they must go, off to war they march and still.
I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze a young Marine saluted it, and then He stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform so young, so tall, and so proud with hair cut square and eyes alert he'd stand out in any crowd. I thought, how many men like him had fallen through the years? How many died on foreign soil? How many mothers' tears? How many Pilots' planes shot down? How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, Freedom is not free. I heard the sound of taps one night, when everything was still. I listened to the bugler play and felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times that taps had meant "Amen" When a flag had draped a coffin of a brother or a friend. I thought of all the children of the mothers and the wives of fathers, sons and husbands with interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard at the bottom of the sea of unmarked graves in Biafra Land.
No, Freedom isn't free!!
With the outer freedom, we see and rule the four corners of the globe. With the inner freedom, we see the Soul and become the Goal of the entire universe.”
Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape. These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling. And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light. And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.
And what is it but fragments of your own self you would discard that you may become free? If it is an unjust law you would abolish, that law was written with your own hand upon your own forehead. You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them. And if it is a despot you would dethrone, see first that his throne erected within you is destroyed. For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyranny in their own freedom and a shame in their own pride? And if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you. And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared.
Awake Biafrans and light your lights so shine!
Edited by Okonkwo Isaac Somto
For Family Writers
A poem to rekindle our light
By Kings JV Chibuzor
For Family Writers
At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom, even as slaves humbles themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them. In the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the citadel I have seen the freest among you wear their freedom as a yoke and a handcuff. And my heart bled within me; for you can only be free when even the desire of seeking freedom becomes a harness to you, and when you cease to speak of freedom as a goal and a fulfillment.
Off to war they marched and still, Tough not always their will, They marched on for their country to be free, They marched on to die if need be, They left their families and their homes, Not to know what awaits them where they go, They pushed forward with no second thought, They pressed on through those whom they fought, They watched as their friends fell, Protecting this country that they loved so well, Remember Those who serve the flag, for if it was not for them we would never be glad, Just like those men in the days of old, Who for their country and freedom they knew they must go, off to war they march and still.
I watched the flag pass by one day. It fluttered in the breeze a young Marine saluted it, and then He stood at ease. I looked at him in uniform so young, so tall, and so proud with hair cut square and eyes alert he'd stand out in any crowd. I thought, how many men like him had fallen through the years? How many died on foreign soil? How many mothers' tears? How many Pilots' planes shot down? How many foxholes were soldiers' graves? No, Freedom is not free. I heard the sound of taps one night, when everything was still. I listened to the bugler play and felt a sudden chill. I wondered just how many times that taps had meant "Amen" When a flag had draped a coffin of a brother or a friend. I thought of all the children of the mothers and the wives of fathers, sons and husbands with interrupted lives. I thought about a graveyard at the bottom of the sea of unmarked graves in Biafra Land.
No, Freedom isn't free!!
With the outer freedom, we see and rule the four corners of the globe. With the inner freedom, we see the Soul and become the Goal of the entire universe.”
Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape. These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling. And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light. And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.
And what is it but fragments of your own self you would discard that you may become free? If it is an unjust law you would abolish, that law was written with your own hand upon your own forehead. You cannot erase it by burning your law books nor by washing the foreheads of your judges, though you pour the sea upon them. And if it is a despot you would dethrone, see first that his throne erected within you is destroyed. For how can a tyrant rule the free and the proud, but for a tyranny in their own freedom and a shame in their own pride? And if it is a care you would cast off, that care has been chosen by you rather than imposed upon you. And if it is a fear you would dispel, the seat of that fear is in your heart and not in the hand of the feared.
Awake Biafrans and light your lights so shine!
Edited by Okonkwo Isaac Somto
For Family Writers
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