This must stop,
The night must be still,
The land request for water not blood,
The rain must be drinkable,
Not sour with uncooked carcasses,
The mournings must be aborted.
National flags, up they want to be,
When I take my pen to write,
Lyrics must flow not dirges.
When I raise my eyes to heavens,
I must give praises not ask questions.
Let my tears flow for joy not sorrows,
This music of tragedy must loose notes.
School chidren in Connecticut,
Emminent personalities in Nigeria,
Down like that like banana stem.
And both could have been avoided,
If only assault rifles were banned in US,
If only roads in Nigeria are travellable.
But they were not,
And they are not.
And now, we wallow amidst wailing of pains.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem