I. The Ogunian Artificer
Amidst the conflagration of the iron forge,
Where Ogun wields the fulminating mace,
He carves the interpreters’ primordial gorge,
And maps the labyrinthine pulse of race.
No obsequious scribe of atrophied decree,
He breathes the petrichor of ancient rite,
Transmuting chthonic myth to liberty,
A numinous beacon in the penumbral night.
The shuttle in the crypt weaves diaphanous thread,
Through solitary vaults of adamantine stone,
Where sepulchral silence by the word is fed,
And magnanimity ascends the throne.
Oh, leonine sage of Aké’s verdant soil,
Your lexis blooms from metaphysical toil.
II. The Prison-Scribe’s Defiance
The man dies in him who keeps a tacit breath,
Before the draconian boots of tyranny,
Where hegemony courts the dance of death,
And fettered truth seeks epiphany.
In carceral gloom, he finds a spectral quill,
To etch notes from the crypt on membranous wall,
A valedictory to the stygian chill,
That seeks to make the venerated fall.
Though exile beckons with its peregrine hand,
Across the empyrean and the salt-rimmed sea,
He remains the adjutant of his native land,
A paragon of stalwart agency.
From Abeokuta’s hills to Stockholm’s frozen light,
He extirpates the darkness of the night.
III. The Dramaturgical Alchemist
The horseman waits upon the liminal shore,
Between the temporal and the void’s embrace,
Where Elesin seeks the ancestral corridor,
And ritual stumbles in its stately pace.
With Rabelaisian wit and Brother Jero’s guile,
He strips the pompous of their vandyke mask,
Dissecting hubris with a satirical smile,
A Herculean and unflinching task.
The forest dances to a dissonant drum,
Where gods and mortals share a communion cup,
And from the cacophony, the truths become
The elixir that lifts the prostrate up.
A polymath of unrivaled erudition,
He drafts the drama of the human condition.
IV. The Bard of Global Echoes
From Leeds’ gray cloisters to the Ibadan sun,
A lexical sword of tempered steel was forged,
Where Yoruba and Greek are intertwined as one,
In a perpetual and vibrant wheel.
The Nobel laurel rests upon his hoary brow,
A testament to intellectual might,
He refuses to obsequiously bow,
Before the potentates of moral blight.
His chronicles of the happiest folk on earth,
Are incendiary maps of avarice and greed,
Revealing the vacuity of hollow birth,
And the pathology of every darkened deed.
Through Mandela's earth and Samarkand’s dusty air,
The quintessence of the human snare is found.
V. The Nonagenarian Lion
At ninety years, the leonine mane is white,
Yet the rhetorical fire is undiminished still,
A titan standing in the twilight light,
With an irrepressible and dauntless will.
He sets forth at dawn on a boundless quest,
To reclaim the dignity of the denigrated soul,
Putting the complacent to the ultimate test,
And striving to make the fractured continent whole.
A gadfly of dissent in a servile age,
He remains the conscience of a beleaguered land,
The unyielding master of the written page,
With justice as the scepter in his hand.
Oh, venerated WS, your legacy shall endure,
As long as the language of liberty is pure
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