Eighteen months, one year and half, since the cold winds blew away my leaves
My green cover, adorning my fleshy bark, brown though not chocolate brown
Light brown, but when baked in Kano’s sun, a shade or two darker but still bright
My green, I stroke my leaves, the curtain that covers my soul and gives it warmth
Suddenly came the ruthless winds from the East unruly, untamed and underestimated
By she who is confident in the sweet molten sweat of love, spoilt rotten by whispers day and night

Eighteen months, one year and half, since the cold winds blew away my leaves
One by one flew my cover, exposing naked a soul reminiscent of an abandoned city
That once was the centre of a universe that brought the young, old, he who has and he who doesn’t
Up went my curtain, jumping up and down to pull it down again to cover my brown bark from shame
But not much shame as pain, cooking from the inner pits of a hurting soul, baked with boiling blood
Resulting all from she who thinks ‘tis enough to love for its reward spoils one rotten day and night

Eighteen months, one year and half, since the cold winds blew away my leaves
But today, this very day I begin to see from a distance twilight, peaking slowly, its needle pointing
In the direction where the cold winds blew ruthlessly my green leaves, the cover of my soul.
But that soul was never broken, for it in eighteen months, one year and half, hand-picked each leaf
Arranging painfully, slowly forming a wreath meant to honour a heart that never failed to love
Eighteen months, one year and half, today cold winds are gone and my green, my love is reborn