BATTLE SCARS. By Agbaakin jeremiah

Echoes from the realm of
inexorcisable death Grumbly voices A yearn for a second chance To taste the nectar of the
mundane world again The aftermaths of battle are
sibyline and sudden upon us The cheerful voices of the
market women are now griefs
of the captured combatants Who ponder everyday when
their clan they shall once see Blood! Bones! Rags of desecrated flesh-The
temple of God? Litter our milleau Genocide has violated our
paradise In the closet of our house we
gather to mourn The death of our brothers and
the exile of peace From our land. In those thirty melancholic
months We run helter skelter A war births the beginning of
the others Like a fertile spyrogyra Behold!The war is no more with
us But the daughters of its binary
fission Have declared their insurgency
on us They deepen our fatal wounds Wound heals Only if the scars can vanish
away As the vulture flees the icy land
for the scavengial desert Wound heals But the scars left behind are
statutes of reminiscence.


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