A Pained Pen Poem by Damola KolaDare

From its belly gushes fury
Belching smoke
Flames fly freely
Lament from a bloke
Gory is the story
Immersed in a mound
Of mirage, a joke
Sullen, sodden, solitary
The soul in a choke
For blood it bays
Spraying ballistic bullets
(Mis) rulers to pay
For every minute of iniquity
And for victory, a ballet
Lest this pen continue
Its purge
Never to be drowned
A call to Nemesis
And preparing a dish of dung