THE MADNESS OF MASS MURDER
Then before me, is the body of my fellow
Being roasting alive like the he-goat sacrifice
Offered to ekwensu; the god of war in a Holocaust,
My optical organs can't bear watching the
Dead bodies of my Fellow Nigerian Citizens
Being murdered by South African beasts of prey,
The bloodthirstiest mongers are perforating my gate
Of agitation on the bare ground of tribulation.
My eyes have fainted down to my stomach,
And I have found it galling carving words on paper,
As though a mere paper tiger of charlatan,
Well, already I have become a ghost among the
Massacred, feeling all nerves amidst bloodbath.
Genocide has become the rain of blood falling down
In torrents like the sky suffering from dysentery, as the
South African beasts of dark mind are on rampage marching
With macabre machinations of machetes massacring many
Nigerians in the terrain of their gothic enclave, and now,
The rain has struck hard smell of rotten flesh to my nostrils.
Oh, South Africa what has made you such a cataract?
And why are you now biting the fingers that once fed you?
You've made the crimson fountains of my fellows
Cried in anguish in your gory floor, drawing blank of the fact
That we've been good neighbors right from the development
Of your entity, or are you still bereft of knowledge?
Well, empty-headed minds don't comprehend quick,
Just that it bothers the decor of my mind to ask for
Peace against pieces of violence hiking like hell of perdition,
Say no to xenophobia!
(c)Ikechukwu, Makurdi, 2019.
Then before me, is the body of my fellow
Being roasting alive like the he-goat sacrifice
Offered to ekwensu; the god of war in a Holocaust,
My optical organs can't bear watching the
Dead bodies of my Fellow Nigerian Citizens
Being murdered by South African beasts of prey,
The bloodthirstiest mongers are perforating my gate
Of agitation on the bare ground of tribulation.
My eyes have fainted down to my stomach,
And I have found it galling carving words on paper,
As though a mere paper tiger of charlatan,
Well, already I have become a ghost among the
Massacred, feeling all nerves amidst bloodbath.
Genocide has become the rain of blood falling down
In torrents like the sky suffering from dysentery, as the
South African beasts of dark mind are on rampage marching
With macabre machinations of machetes massacring many
Nigerians in the terrain of their gothic enclave, and now,
The rain has struck hard smell of rotten flesh to my nostrils.
Oh, South Africa what has made you such a cataract?
And why are you now biting the fingers that once fed you?
You've made the crimson fountains of my fellows
Cried in anguish in your gory floor, drawing blank of the fact
That we've been good neighbors right from the development
Of your entity, or are you still bereft of knowledge?
Well, empty-headed minds don't comprehend quick,
Just that it bothers the decor of my mind to ask for
Peace against pieces of violence hiking like hell of perdition,
Say no to xenophobia!
(c)Ikechukwu, Makurdi, 2019.
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