The Last October First Poem by Dr Igbinedion Obaretin

The blood stained sword unmasked, edging slowly
Out of its scabbard after years of sickening peace;
The terrifying moment of buried truths is near
Albeit unknown to busy bees in the federal capital.

Her peace violated by the bitterness of greed
As she was raped again and again in her slumber,
Tattered clothes barely covered her open wound, bleeding
Wet eyes, calling for justice stolen from her breasts,
Her arrogant maiden breasts of 1960 now humbled cruelly,
Battered flat like the table tennis bat are the relics
Of brutal exploitation by her violators in political robes.

Her tears mingled with blood ascended unnoticed, forming
Sinister clusters of clouds over a land consumed in self-indulgence.
The assembly of heavenly clouds above her, hovering still
Precipitating, near the edge of bitter saturation,
Calling for true witnesses to the impending storm.
But to the ears deafened by odious political jingles
The loud echoes of warnings are otiose.

The hour of reckoning is near.
The blood stained sword edging slowly again
For the greedy throats of her violators, yet unnoticed:
This may be the last October First.