Where is my Wakanda?
A land with calm coloured sky, like a fairy world.
Where is my Wakanda?
A place where culture never fades,
And my brothers still go to war with swords and spares and arrows and bows.
Where is my Wakanda.
An African world where my sisters reflect beauty in themselves
And their ivory, black skin shines over the golden afternoon sun.
Where is my Wakanda?
A place of giant warriors and mighty Kings.
They sit side my side, solving puzzled cases and life tests that takes other continents a million years to settle.
Where is my Wakanda?
A place where woman with no hair can be crowned, queen.
Where fashion isn't seen as a temporary thing.
Where is my Wakanda?
A country fully equipped with science and technology,
The type, never seen anywhere else.
A place where tradition and culture is admired.
Where Peace and unity, like oxygen is acquired.
A land where men and women are seen as one.
Equal.
Person.
They lead a troop of army at war,
Yet, feel the heat beat of science and technology.
A land where foods and fruits are harvested instead of imported.
Where is my Wakanda?
An African land with the richest natural blessings...
Enriched with human, material and natural resources
A land of honour and culture and discovery.
A land with the highest amount of man power.
Where tradition rules like Kings and princes.
Where culure is recognized, like queens and princesses.
Everyone have their roles, they fulfil their tasks in their names and it's unique meanings, they see themselves.
Where is my Wakanda?
A land with no discrimination, racism or ethnicity.
A land were electricity last in all seasons till infinity.
Where boys are marked as men
Where girls are crowned as women.
Where maturity and creativity doesn't have to be measured with age or time.
Where dreams are never interrupted.
Where is my Wakanda I ask you?
I ask you listening with a priceless heart.
Your knowledge brain is twisted in different languages,
So please, tell me.
Where shall we find peace in all these choas?
I call on you from the east to the west!
Where are the son's and daughters of the soil?
From the south to the north of our mother Africa!
Whoever you are, where ever you live... I ask you,
Where shall we get that expensive heart of trust to believe.
When shall our leaders stop being cheap and selling themselves into the slave-trade of politics.
And fighting for government seat
like two rats fighting for a price of meat.
Where is my Wakanda I ask thee?
Just tell me...
© Madinah_Writes
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Fragrance From A Black Flower
Poetry#1 in blackpoets This collection of poems is intended to give some account of the conditions in which African oral poets produce their works, and the audiences to which they address themselves. However, even the most summary account of this topic is...
