The Stolen Dawn Poem by Imo Peter

The unwavering heart that yearned for sun
Made dead and buried asleep in fury spun
What a pathetic moment each time it rises
Undaunted spirit, bruised, lows and dies

We vowed to this land that gave us birth
With burden tied to our neck we quest with mirth
No natural course barricade our mission
But a frontline puppet with blurred vision

No natural clouds obscure the blue
But shadows spread as leaders brew
Their selfish scheme, a bitter heart
That chills the hopeful breaking art

The very eclipse that stole our dawn,
Not far from heads that wear our crown
As mighty guardians of their power stand
With scepter, stealing our future from our hand

No shadow falls from heaven high,
But vision choked, where tensions cry
A stage is set for sorrows deep
And fragile hope lies asleep