Ghost Town Poem by Njoyim Elisha

Not a sound was heard,
Nor a living soul seen,
Nor a lonely try in spleen,
Nor a morning bird to sing,
Nor an engine there to screech,
Nor a healthy cock to crow,
Nor a crummy toddler yelp,
Nor an ungreased hinge squeal,
Nor an ill-mannered teen din,
Nor a cyclist there to spin,
Nor a wanton kin to gest and grin,
Nor a bereaved mother scream,
Nor a conspicuous prig to nick,
Nor an arduous lessor to seal,
Nor a lad with many schemes flirting
With a sheen queen. A frolicking
Wind in such silence caused a
Chill and a feeling of infinite despair.

My footsteps where louder than
A church bell and the shrieking
Of my heart, that which no tongue
Can tell. Nothing but its sound
Piercing through the void and
Resounding in the vast emptiness,
Sufficient to blasts a deity into
Oblivion and a friable soul like
Mine did my echoing heart
Devour. I lamented in vain
Like a weakling under the
Reign of his foe, I expired in
groans, no one came to my aid.

The spook, haunted by its
Creation, displaced itself
To where it found life to
Devour cursing 'ngomnia'
For its pitiable governance.

Tremendous ignorance
Accompanies Africans
Who hold power that blinds
And binds them in short-sightedness
Invoking the apparition and
Making visible the chaos
you now see.