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| Elijah abuni peter |
WAR
Come
repugnant youth!
Carry
your gun,
Bow
to your sages,
Let
their knowledge drip with desire.
Point
the masked hater,
Dull
its gaze,
And
tell me whatever comes was meant to be.
In
the midst of the nights song,
Embrace
your call,
Stoke
your fires,
The
enemy is near.
Call
the fury song,
Strap
your iniquity,
The
greater good is your market hence.
Go
to that town,
That
reeks of strangers,
Bury
your conscience
At
the pastors words.
Drown
in this listlessness,
Crave
your bullets,
Oh
silent merchant of doom.
Beat
the drum of Hades,
At
the feet of your riff,
Let
no one speak,
As
you dress the path of grief.
Mothers
know you not,
Fathers
wither at your breath.
Yet
the children live to become you!!!
Come
silent youth,
Carry
your gun and walk,
Walk
till you see that town,
Where
men no more live.
Admire
the beauty of its ruins,
Embrace
its rubble heaped disdain
And
know that your silence made it so.
See
the orphaned orphans,
Decaying
before their death.
The
vulture sings its dirge,
To
aid the dying corpses.
It
no more waits
For
life to be gone,
Peck,
bite away. Show this man what he has become!!
War
for the kobo,
War
for the angry naira
Are
we all stooges?
Of
this economic rift?
Vultures
of war,
Flying
out here,
Where
the path of sanity has been sold!!
Come
salient youth,
The
gun gives you life,
Transient,
you draw your lines.
Fight
for your sanity,
Immerse
your innocence in this dripping blood.
Where
is your conscience, where is your death?
Bleak
reparations of tomorrow- less tomorrow.
Damnation
of souls damned by ignorance,
Greed
menacingly dances its cheerful wrath
Man
made hubris, intrinsically subjugated
Tentacles
of faults worshipped as strength
Illusionary
delusions sipped as visions
Drawn
in these myths of power and man
Young
soul, carry your gun.
Carry
that brute on your starless back,
Walk
as a god, breathe as a demon,
Let
rage be your venom,
Let
your anger pour in the smoke.
Kill,
kill, and kill tomorrow at a glance,
Let
no ashes be left to spite.
For
terror comes out of mercy, and its gifts are wry.
For
it is war that you seek,
It
is death that your fate sees,
A
soldier for hire, a victim of allegiance,
A
living corpse masquerading in life.
Griot
of ancestral regrets,
All
your homes lie in the ruins,
The
images of the war that you crave.
Come
silent youth,
Here
lays your path?
Sieved
from the dust of your conscienceless soul
Graves
rejoice for the work that you do
Its
coffers gazing at the bounty and loot
You
sell innocence for haunted release
Returning
as strangers with the faces we knew.
War
in the scenes of our moral decay
The
oracles of our fathers’ silent to our cries
War
for our minds not our eyes
For
being blind was never about sight.
War
to see the truth and not these sights
Where
brothers murder innocent souls in lamp lit nights
War
to remember humanity again
When
we recklessly tumble to carnal savages.
War
to remember the purpose of it all
Was
to live and die without skirmish
Yet
our brazen lamps flicker in dearth
As
we finally remember as soldiers, that war!
Yes
war, has never been our end!!
BY
ELIJAH ABUNI PETER
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