From a Cell 8

The 8-foot cell that was Mandela's home on Robben Island.

One man

(And he was no ordinary man)

Had a vision and moved the motion to take a stand

The self-named lords tagged him bad gone mad

And shipped the hell-raiser off to rot on an isolated island.

But his was a story that couldn’t be caged behind metal bars.

One man

(I said he wasn't no ordinary man)

Opened his mouth to speak and his voice rose beyond his cell bars

And the nuance of his message held steady thro out every land;

A song of infinite hope that screamed the line, if you believe you can.

The man died but the memories of him live in the legacy of his plan.

One man

(You know, he was no ordinary man)

Learned that courage ain't in the strength of your arms

But triumph over the stuff that cripples your very heart.

The life he led drove the highpoints home like nail piercing plank,

His words reassure us like stars guiding travelers in the dark.

Akpan