Forty Ogres Poem by kelvin karani

Forty ogres stampeded
Through the plains and highlands
Through the arids and killed
Many who on their paths lay helpless

The children and the old alike
Succumb to premature deaths
Man-made scarcity made prices hike
Condemning the poor deep into the abyss

The forty ogres are having their feast
O! How they swallow maize and drink oil
They should have ingestion at least
But no! They defecate hatred and others meals soil!

There is grand mourning in the land
Courtesy of the grand committee of ogres
People piously die and others fear to lend a hand
Everybody is practicing for their death, hapless!