stars fade into bleak space,
wind airs arid breeze,
nature, despondent, cries.
Ache sweeps me off joy
and happiness resents even my sight.
Forlorn in this stormy conflict,
I long for showers of delight.
Lost on the path of love
I prowl among victims seeking sanctuary.
My heart weeps in despair
as I wait to be unmasked by love.
Trees sing the dirge endlessly,
lawns quiver in distress,
As shears cuts through them,
left desolate like nomads.
As I unveil this cradle of misery,
loneliness hovers in, while
depression wonders through me.
Wailing for affection, pain blindfolds me.
Sitting here in the refugee camp
I suppress my sobs in my locket,
Thinking of when I stepped out
not knowing that was the end.
I am waiting for à savior
to free me from these shackles
of self-induced torment by insatiable souls,
in the hearts of a city agog.
POET’S NOTE: This poem is about the ongoing religious/ethnic crisis in Jos, Plateau State, Nigeria, which has now metamorphosed into an insatiable beast that is now threatening the very soul of the nation.
The sad thing is that raging inferno seems to have no foreseeable end.
meet the poet: Yakori Mohammed
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.