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ABOJỌ́ (RAINMAKER)

ABOJỌ́ (RAINMAKER)

The guitar was your instrument

Each chord you strung touched souls for generations

Your voice was indeed prophetic

Echoing the prayers of all

Your music was cryptic

Yet there was never a dull moment whenever you held a mic

Send down the rain!

You declared

Nature succumbed to your sweet melodies

The sky wept!

Fathers rejoiced because they could hope to harvest

Mothers rejoiced because they could hope to trade

Children rejoiced, dancing in the cold rain

Today the sky looks misty and cloudy

It weeps because you have left its shores

Apotheosis!! Odabò abojọ́

© PUBLIUS CRASSUS (JIA)

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