Green Walls have become haven for lizards.
Bloods, the wellspring from where we quench our thirst.
And our flesh, now, RSVP for vultures
who picnics on broken skins.
Today, like history is no jamboree for reverberations
for with us is the Second coming
void of triumphant chants but with echoes of
'grief on painted' Walls.
Rapture has come twice on us and only 'Eves'
possess the green books for heaven's door
while the rest gnash teeths, for nightmares becloud
as pregnant clouds;
But no paradise lost, for with a mountain of misery
unioned with waterlog eyes we await
their beautiful reincarnations when Sucklings return
with dark fruits as emblems.
a deception that portraits fractured Homeland
again we behold?
A million days still counting against CHIBOK
and here we begin a new census for DAPCHI,
that which chronicles the ruins of dark Centers.
We are in Gridlocks, NIGERIA.
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