Humanity - A Fatal Blow To Tribe Poem by Dr Anthony Onoja

There is no heavenly portion reserved for the Yoruba man
I know not a market in the sky where only the Igbo trade
Neither is there a holy mosque in the corridor of eternity
where ablution is made by only the Hausa/Fulani

Why then the tog of a tussle?
when no man shall outlive his pace
Why the hate and wistful thrust?
When we all shall lie still in the sand of time

The days are evil as blackouts,
The dooms clock is now upon us
Time we all feared is our betrothed spouse

Listen to the wind
Watch the night sky
The voices echo from far away
It is the gallop of evil
The shadow of deceit

At the rising of the sun
We all were numbered
Like the stalemate from Blueberry
Anchor by a fatal blow of hate