Ebola It's Called Poem by kemurl fofanah

Blood oozing out from nose, mouth and ear
Fever gripping souls burning hearts with fear
Intestines constantly rejecting whatever substance consume
Militantly ejecting feces like brute fume
Suddenly, skin starts to rebel
With swollen bruises like spell
Eventually death takes it scene
Leaving panic minds amazed at it style of murdering victim
Everyone seems confuse
Its lashes lives like fulfilling reparative dues
Not a single understanding of it cure had surface
Hence every soul is advised not to even smell it face
Ebola it is called
It takes it stands very bald
Ransacking my beloved Sierra Leone like how slavery did
Guinea is where it first throw it bid
But my nation had suffer more
As if it had grieved it before
Ooo God are you angry with us
Please we don't want to have anymore death by this beasty virus
They tell me to wash my hands
Avoid bats, avoid crowdy bands
The tell me to space the dead
Report the sick with it trend
But beyond all this preventive skills
Are we still safe? perhaps its depends on what Allah wills