Home Blog Tetralogy of Hope Songs by Becky Peleowo

Tetralogy of Hope Songs by Becky Peleowo

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I

Just a little Joy

Hope your day was well spent

Even when some roads were bent

And when all goals were not met

So many lacks, not much to get

Hope in your heart you sure can bet

That at least some joy was felt

Hope you cleared off even a little debt

Hope your day was well spent.

 

Friend, my day was well-spent

Though some roads were bent

Though not all goals were met

Though too many to clear, the debt

One thing, one hope, I sure can bet

That there was at least some joy I felt

And all my best thanks to God, sent

Today, dear friend, was well spent.

 

II

Lost

A song to the ones who are lost

A song to the victims of war

A song to the souls that have lost

sense of self to canons of war.

 

Ọlálékan!

I remain a married virgin

I am the widowed bride

That awaits the coming of her groom

Will my dusk never cease?

Will my night bring no bliss?

Olalekan!

You are but the dusk

The Taurus dusk,

That confined me to celibate vows

Are you gone or lost?

Have you licked the dust? Will my dawn never come?

On the once green hills now turned plains

Where their chaotic fireballs kissed the dust

Their barks stiffened sucklings to death

The mournful pleas turned on deaf ears

You sought succour for your newlywed

But their piercing dart hits the bullseye

The conjugal drums played amorous dirge

Their destructive tambourines did fireworks

See, dancing massacred bodies with their ubiquitous presence

But Olalekan did not dance with them

Ọlálékan, you disappeared.

Where are you, my love?

The Virgin cried on her wedding night

The Virgin cried for the dawn

Is my dawn forever lost?

Ọlálékan!

You were my dawn.

You are my dusk.

Would the gong rather not proclaim your demise?

Than the wait for a lost one

Come, my love!

Come be my dawn!

I wait in my Chantilly gown

Till at long I no longer can.

 

Hope to the ones who have lost

Hope to the victims of war

Hope to the loved ones of the lost

Who live in anticipation of their return.

 

III

To a Weary Soul

As long as the earth is round

Know this, my weary friend.

Even if the cumbrous globe

Rests on your shoulders

And on yours alone

And the ever-raging waters

Turbulently engulfs you

You gasp for life, for breath

And all around you exhume nothing

But despair and melancholy

No lever to lift the load

No neck to stand the head

Keep that head on your shoulders

And strut tall, my weary friend

For alone, life’s ferry conveyed you in

Alone, you truly will be

Like the legs in a dirndl

You think you were disavowed

No, you’ve always been alone

From the commencement of the Copernican system

To the moment I speak, weary friend

Don’t be weary my friend,

Save your last breath to acclaim

That eclat which my echoic song foresee

 

IV

Life

Life’s bed, dear friend

Is always not of roses

And even if it is

Could have a pillow of thorns

Or a bed of prickles.

 

Life’s oven, dear child

May not always bake bread

And even when it does

Could burn the bread so bad

That you can’t take a bite.

 

Life’s success, dear friend

May not always be guaranteed

And even when it’s not

It’s just one of the rainy days

The sun will soon shine.

 

 

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