An Arena Of Battle Poem by Yusuff Uthman Adekola

It is dying.
Oh, it is dying!
The blossoming flower of beauty
That has always raised our shoulders
Above and beyond the sky
Is dying.
And so, where is our pride! ?

It is drying still.
Oh, It is drying!
The free flowing river of peace
That has always got the drum of the heart
Beating with a tortoise-steady rhythm
Is drying!
Where is our peace! ?

What are these sounds we hear,
Rustling dry leaves under our stomping feet,
Littering this dishonoured ground! ?
What are these broken bottles and knives,
Torturing our progress,
Scattered at the sides, centre and corners
Of this blood-soaked terrain! ?

Do please tell,
Is the world truly an arena of battle?