The night is choked by the wind of musical shadows,

An old transition drowns …

dressed in Diamonds, Pearls and signatures of Purple rain,

The eyes of the land are filled with tears.

Where is our social prophet?

Money might not matter tonight,

for the sad pockets of the earth are filled with the imagery of your late legacy

The sun sets, and a new season unfolds,

creating room for a new revolution,

And now that you have gone,

New voices are born, eager to become – Passports of the future.

by Tony Tokunbo Eteka Fernandez