I used to fear the fire below,  
The endless dark where sinners go,  
But then I learned—how strange, how bright—  
That Hell and Heaven share this light.  

It’s here on earth, in what we give,  
In how we choose each day to live,  
Not flames or clouds, but what we make,  
In love we show or hearts we break.  

The tales I heard, of sin and shame,  
Of wrathful gods who curse and blame,  
They lost their hold, their bitter sting,  
When truth appeared, a gentler thing.  

For death is not the final door,  
We rise again, return once more.  
The cycle spins, a life renewed,  
To mend the ways we once pursued.  

Now Heaven’s found in every face,  
In acts of kindness, threads of grace,  
And Hell is in the hurt we leave,  
The hearts we crush, the webs we weave.  

So I don’t fear the judgment bell—  
I used to be scared to go to Hell.  
But now I know, it’s what we sow,  
That shapes the world, the highs, the lows.  

Reborn again, we rise, we fall,  
In love’s great dance, I’ve seen it all.

From Oguta’s shores, by the blue lake’s glow,
A father stands, strong, where deep roots grow.
His Imo heart, focused, fierce, and true,
Carves paths of hope with love that shines through.
A pillar of grace, unyielding and grand.
His hands toil hard, with sacrifice bold,
Passion runs deep, like stories of old.
By Oguta’s waves, he lights the way,
Guiding his kin through night to day.
His love, the strength that never bends.
This Father’s Day, we sing his name,
From blue lake’s edge, his boundless flame.
With every sweat, he builds our song,
Imo’s great son, forever strong.
His heart, our home, where dreams belong.