Kennedy Oluoma (Lagos, Nigeria)

The gun dialogue has ended in cold blood
Warm blood gush and trickle fresh from the empty soldiers
that fell trying to stand firm by lying down.


Soldier of discipline and honour is the one filled with tearful voice that cries
still I rise
And still he rose empty as a soldier filled with gloom
Surrounded by useless bullet shells,
Shells that made bullets once useful
Shells that hid death in tiny packages
Shells of turbulence
Shells that are not mere hard covering (of a snail)
Shell that makes its habitant quicker compared to that of tortoise.


Shells of soldiers steal souls
Lying at ease in the field,
On soldiers field where death is cultivated.


Sparks startled by triggers fly
Then roaches and courage die
Still he rose
Heart pacing for tears
Living with pride in some thousand fears
Knees weak out of braveness
pleading for true dialogue.


Shells of soldiers shell down soldiers
Shells down courage built with concrete words.
Claps of metal sound bang,
Clasp down warm hearts in a ring of golden fetters
Entrap souls away from the empty biters
Still they let more souls out and call them soldiers
Still they load them up with shells of soldiers.