Our Supposed Messiah
Fire drizzling of blood,
Sky echo agony of tears,
Eyes tirelessly bleed,
Mother earth shrinks,
Tots cry and wail in tears,
We see the writings, the end is near.
Leaders matched blood on the roadside,
Never tremble for it is a willing cost,
They focus only on the lead line,
The poor pay a deadly cost,
Who are their manifestos meant to please?
The tossed corps on the street?
Compatriots be warn, they honestly don't worth the fight.
How many more will have to die?
Condolence are returned with just a sigh,
People feel pains they can't express,
Is this the true face of politics?
Or we are just being faced with fantasy?
Children stay awake even with an alluring lullaby.
The ground frown at the world,
It wants food but this is too unripe,
They dig it and never mind,
The hole is filled with many on their prime,
Our leaders don't mind, what they want is the throne.
The heaviest of words are said in whisper,
Bullets are tossed like drops of rain,
Nothing bring back the dead, not the precious of silver,
Everyone covered their head, running helter scepter,
We are stranded, we stay here awaiting our faith,
For our supposed messiah seek our blood to drink.
©Yusuf Muyibat Avosuahi
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