cry of the rising Sun.

Title: "Cry of the Rising Sun" [Intro – Spoken Word] Yeah… From the ashes of the past, we rise. This is more than a song— This is a cry from the soul of a people. Biafra… hear me. [Verse 1 – Rap] Born in the east where the rivers bleed, Red clay soil and the palm trees seed, Mama told me stories of war and pain, Of dreams buried deep in the harmattan rain. They called us rebels, freedom's flame, But all we want is to reclaim our name. Biafra lives in our heartbeat strong, Even though the world sayin’ we don't belong. Tears in the soil, but we still sow seeds, In the belly of the storm where justice pleads. Our children ask what the silence means, While they pray to sleep with forgotten dreams. [Chorus – Sung, soulful hook] Cry, cry, cry for Biafra’s light, We shine through the darkest night. Freedom is our song, we won't back down, Rising like the sun over every town. [Verse 2 – Rap] They silence our tongues, but the beat still speaks, Through the pulse of drums in the market streets. From Aba to Onitsha, Enugu cries, But in our spirit, the eagle flies. I see the youth with fire in their eyes, They don't want chains dressed in modern lies. They want books, they want bread, they want peace, But they’re met with fear from the armed police. You can’t erase what the soul has known, Even if the truth has been overthrown. We remember Ojukwu’s call to stand, And we still believe in this promised land. [Bridge – Spoken/Rap] No, we ain’t asking for too much, Just dignity, a voice, a healing touch. This ain't tribal, it’s survival, The blood of Biafra is tribal revival. [Chorus – Repeat with more emotion] Cry, cry, cry for Biafra’s light, We shine through the darkest night. Freedom is our song, we won't back down, Rising like the sun over every town. [Verse 3 – Rap, faster flow] Check the history, the pain runs deep, But we still plant hope like it’s crops we reap. From Nnewi lanes to Nsukka hills, We got brains, we got heart, we got endless will. No pipelines, no roads, no light, Yet we hustle through the thickest night. They fear our rise 'cause we innovate, Even when pushed to a bitter fate. I speak for the child who never ate, For the mother praying at her broken gate. This mic’s my weapon, this beat’s my war, 'Til Biafra walks free forever more. [Outro – Spoken over soft beat] This ain’t just music— This is prophecy in rhythm. This is a cry from the sons and daughters Of a land still waiting to be whole. Biafra... your voice is not forgotten