Take me to Bourdillon in Lagos -By James Sunday

Take me to Bourdillon in Lagos

To that cathedral

Where sits and no-one else

The lion of Bourdillon

To the liege maker

Whose calligraphy

Seals the fate of a dreamer

A progeny now forsworn

The king of Babylon

A tale i was told

But that of Bourdillon

My eyes behold

Now, this new Tsar

Who heads the jungle

Like from creation

He says the word

This is your governor

And it came to pass

With his kinsmen

The on-looking bystanders

In the lurch

Wandering

Without a choice

And sleep-walked to the ballot

But alas! Let the rajah of Bourdillon

Like that of Babylon

Who cogitates that he stands towering

Take heed lest he falls

We have caught the cacophonies

Like the blues it plays

We have read the handwritings on the wall

Like on Belshazzar’s feast

James a Journalist and development worker writes from Kaduna