I'm a voice,
a desperate voice,
a gong creviced
by fragmented hope

I'm a voice
a harassed voice,
a cymbal wounded
by repeated trashing

I'm a voice,
a forsaken voice
a drum, whose beat is drowned

I say, I'm a voice,
not an echo...

I sing of looted treasures
I drum of bruised dreams
I sing of trampled hopes
I sing of ravished homes
I sing of denied mandates

I'll make a melody,
a melody to sear their
dead conscience.

Emeka Chike Nwogu.