staronthenile

WARMONGER

Caution my pen that his name be not mentioned,
So arrogant in heart that he finds no mentee,
Sighing of victims all days without measure,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Deadened empathy he wears, a twin of Lucifer,
Proudly he unleashes doom on humanity,
A wild dog he is, straying in his own imagination,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

With subtle tales his father begs for confederacy,
So gullible they were that fell in that trap,
Little will they have thought to be enslaved by Moscow?
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

His children are fine in palaces of iron doors,
Leaking the milky sweat of the task payers,
His comfort lies with the discomfort of others,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Should the world around him be led with his cattle rod?
And their freedom be jeopardized under his cruel wipe,
With gnashing of teeth he vexed his uncontrolled anger,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Too big for the world to tame, yet he wants to subjugate the world,
Even the European Union sees him as a cog in their wheel of progress,
His haughtiness has caused his companions their fortunes in other lands,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger,

Oh how he spills the blood of choice less teenagers on the battle fields,
Thousands of whom are casualties of needless war,
Orphans and widows are multiplied for his inordinate affections,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Sixteen moon passed by, yet the wicked soul still enjoys war,
Unleashing deadly brimstones on Mariupol with dead bodies on the street,
Will Sievierodonetsk forgives the son of the old dragon?
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Let the arms of Maryinka, Bakhmut and Rubizhne be stronger than ever,
To counter the artilleries of a reckless warmonger,
That Popasna and Volnovakha may shield off his missiles of doom,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

His handwriting liters the walls of the Middle East,
Trading weapons for black gold on the gulf of Persians,
Instigating brothers against brothers on the street of Lebanon,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Now that the desperado is desperate to win more allies,
And another monster has joined hands with him to woo more nations,
Less my home land falls victim of the antics of the BRICS,
Her forerunners are heartless demons in disguise.

Should my fathers’ land consent to the friendship of a carnivore,
Have we not learnt a bitter lesson from the yoke of the west we bear?
How much more shall we add to our burdens by allowing a greater monster,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

He is a straying dog that yielded not to the clarion call of the hunter,
His sense of history was beclouded by his presumptuous mind,
Little will he think of the fall of Bonaparte, Mussolini and Hitler?
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

How long will he continue to romance the weapons of war?
How long will he continue to threatens the peace of his neighbours,
None could have imagine his onslaught against his own brother,
No virtue, no heart, for he is a warmonger.

Away with that son of jezebel that covets the land of his neighbor,
Away with the offers of the subtle serpent,
Away with the league of those that inflicted the globe with a deadly virus,
They have no virtue and they have no heart, they are warmongers.

THE INEVITABLE

Chants of the new moon on the isles,
Relaxation spots accosted in all balconies,
Fireworks as rainbow in the new blue,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Fine linens of purple across the streets,
As paris is replicated in all village hurts,
Singing not sighing through the dawn of the new,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Projections romances prospective plans on leaf,
As proposed achievements set men at race,
Marathon race as if the devil pursues,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Resolution on the heart platform of all,
A better year ahead dangles on the ranges not far,
Marriage, car, promotion, and shelter they crave after,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Ephemeral kisses uncertainty as time passes,
Yet the essence of time in timeless era not seen,
Though minds are beclouded with ephemerals,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

No moon comes without a chilly hands of death,
First tick in time records his action in operation,
No minute, hour, day or month without him roar,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Riches visits her appealing clients on the tussle path,
Wealth soar through the alleys of the prudent,
As neither riches nor wealth can transcends beyond,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Is it not foolishness as men thought it’s all here?
Transition of souls becomes obscured in deceit,
And death quietly played a counter game on all,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

This week could be mine and the next could be yours,
To receive the uninvited guest called death,
It may sounds not appealing to your senses,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Think as blood flows on the highways as river,
One, two or more souls just met the inevitable,
Think as breathe ceases from the nostrils,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

So scary to think of him, yet he is the inevitable,
As he passes by in the neighbourhood we cringe,
Wisdom cries on the mountain to “be prepared”
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

As you see the lowered casket of that neighbor,
Be prepared, lest he meets you unprepared,
As we run the race of wealth and prospects,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

Only one way to prepare, just a step to escape,
Not a soul lives with no debt of death to pay,
As JESUS gives life beyond death’s corridors,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

As the new moon resolution cuts across the mind,
And projection flies on the ranges of our cavities,
The need to make way for life after death rest here,
Yet will I not forget to prepare for the inevitable.

AREAS OF THE NIGER

Tears flow on their street like tsunami,
Carcasses of the dejected liters the jungle like Somalia,
Poverty is their companion and hunger their kinsman,
Their rulers are prodigal and callous in mind.

Tales of murder, kidnap and theft,
On daily posts like a wildfire,
Pilgrims journey with their hearts in their own hands,
Even their watchmen are victims of the captors.

With empty belly and frowned faces,
Young and old walks the corridors in bitterness,
Not without a glimpse of hope in their subconscious minds,
‘Naija go better’ is their daily anthem.

Anarchy has taken hold on their palace attendants,
Their edits are meant for the proletarians,
Their bourgeoisie buys justice with impunity,
A land of crippled value system and justice.

North-west wears the regalia of religious fanatism,
The brutal murder of Deborah stirs at the minds like the ghost,
North-east harbours bandits for her self-destruction,
All day long, woes ransacked their corners with an unprecedented curfew.

North-central is a home of the unimaginable,
Where banditry and religious intolerance spread wings,
Like an eagle on the hunt,
Their kings are helpless, their sons are prey.

South-west is a base of ritualists and religious verbal war,
Where toddlers slaughter human for riches,
And the social media become the battle field for religion bigots.
Even their watchmen are guilty of compromise on these.

Unknown gunmen are the princes of Persia in the south-east,
Political kidnap and killings is a daily routine, yet the leader sleeps on,
Militancy and broad day light theft are the strongholds in the south-south,
Where the military and the militants are companions in criminality.

The center of power is with a magical order,
Where pen manipulate figures and snake swallows money,
Habitation of seats that decide the fate of hundreds of million,
An arena where public opinions are silenced in the dock at judgment.

A land where cattle are more important than human,
Farmers are scared of cattle’s brutality in their farms,
Landlords can no longer sleep peacefully in their abodes,
As security becomes so expensive in the market to purchase.

Oh how naira becomes a beggar on world streets,
And absence of subsidy empties the pockets of the middle class,
Wages of labourers becomes unsustainable,
Ecological succession applies, poor dies rich lives.

Does it not matters to the king in the rock?
A land with measureless milk and honey,
Yet poverty becomes a heroic monster in countless households,
Does it not matters to the king in the rock?

How long will areas of the Niger bear these burdens?
When will they be relieved of the yoke of their task masters?
Oh how they had a king with human heart,
They would have become a land to be married.

They are deserted among the commons,
Their seat can’t be found among the nobles,
The lips of their magistrates speak no truth,
Their princes are cruel and pervert in their ways.

Their young men seek asylum in strange lands,
Their maidens are violated and abuse within and without,
Their sons and daughters lie in the den of kidnappers,
No trusted rescue mission in the land.

Areas of the Niger hear my counsel,
Yield to this glooming cry of your bowels,
Lest your balconies become a shadow in time,
And your maidens become unmarried.