Ọmọ-ọba

A self portrait

child of the crown,
stands firm on ancestral turf.
Your sight carries stories,
unspoken and unseen.

A bloodline drenched in royal radiance.
Blood-like rivers, pouring deep.
Through hills where forefathers slept.
You go confidently,
guided by their whispers.

However, your hands are soft with love,
not war.
A heart that desires to repair and restore. Having both strength and grace,
Ọmọ-ọba commands attention.

During peaceful moments,
you hear the call,
The ancient song,
the ascent and the fall.
Ọmọ-ọba, rise, rise again.
The kingdom resides within your spirit.