In the land of the setting sun,
Where the savannah stretches wide,
A king did reign, a warrior son,
A lord of might and pride.
His name was Ohinoyi, fierce and bold,
A leader of his people true,
His deeds in battle oft were told,
And many foes he overthrew.
With spear in hand and shield on the arm,
He rode his horse across the plains,
And though his enemies meant him harm,
His courage blessed his campaigns.
But there was one thing that he loved more,
Than battle, glory, or fame,
And that was red wine, rich and pure,
To which he gave his name.
For Ohinoyi was a connoisseur,
Of wines delicate, rare and fine,
And when he drank, his spirit sure,
Would rise and brightly shine.
With every sip, he felt renewed,
His senses sharpened by its vintage,
And by the evening, adequately imbued,
He pondered on the future of his lineage.
For Ohinoyi knew that life was short,
And that each day could be his last,
So he embraced the pleasures sought,
And cherished every moment past.
And so his legend grew and spread,
Across the lands both far and wide,
As a king who ruled with heart and head,
And loved red wine with pride.