In my home
I hear the awful news
Shooting out of aggrieved lips
Like a dozen of stray bullets
...
In My Home
In my home
I hear the awful news
Shooting out of aggrieved lips
Like a dozen of stray bullets
piercing into our feeble hearts
Clans sob with heavy breath
Chanting canticles- manacles of death shackles him
In the throes amidst of unbearable agony
Myriads of pains serenade the air
Blowing every mournful head
My feeble heart splinters into little fragments
Like the crumbs of broken clay pot
Tears wander through the aisle of my cheeks
When eyes witness you in cluttered garment
In an icy form of numb frozen body
My home
That was once a mansion of smiles
Is now filled with baskets of sorrow
As you vanish like rose that vacates the bouquet
To reside in a lonely vast of small mug
Nigeria