Written by Oyetayo Eniola.
What is this I feel?
My frequency is one that picks a lot but is rarely picked by others
Have I dived too deep for them to relate?
Or has the system corroded their senses
Vibrant and lively youths vibing to the wrong ideas
I’m stuck in my mind, feeding off the conversations with my spirit
Increasing myself as I aim for higher dimensions
Stuck on a plane where the older ones seem to me like children
Words to me, have lost the power to communicate
or maybe the knowledge of my people has become emaciated.
I write these words to ease the tension on my soul
Or maybe I have a message for my people
My spirit speaks, I listen
He instructs, I write
So now, I ask myself
Of what essence are these words that I have bled out?
What is their destination?
What is their purpose?
I am versed in a language that is not my own
While mine is as a malnourished fowl roaming the streets
And I take pride in myself, a proud fool
Condemning the many when I am crooked
I seek the source to these words just as I do my existence
With time both will be found.
I am Oblivion, and I do not seek to be remembered
Only, that Africa should remember.
Remember her roots
Remember her ways
And remember her fruits
Much has been forgotten
And many a mind are still asleep
Awake only in their dreams,
Dreams created for them and not by them.
Maybe my words are purposed to awaken these minds
But I am not fully MAN
Still, I will do what I am meant.
Oyetayo, Eniola (preferably Oblivion) is a 21-year-old, student of meteorology and climate science in Lagos, Nigeria. He is an Afrocentric creative inspired by the originality of African culture and civilization. When not writing he listens to music, reads novels, and researches history.
You can reach him on Twitter @ankarawhore