A grey bird chanted a bleeding song
on the dark streets of despair.
When a pale knell had been rung
and usurped a blooming atmosphere.
Her song profusely bled
like a smile stabbed on the head.
And she cried so much,
like a lad lanced of lunch.
Her song was stripped naked
with dangling breasts, fully bred;
Roaming on the faces of urchins,
whom are dismayed like fallen chins.
Her song ranted in repine,
like a family flogged by famine.
And she wept and wailed with woes
like a princess that has lost her toes.
Thus the heavens heard her cry
and open up it knotted sky.
Then heaven's womb birth a son
with the smile of a new sun.
'Take and eat this bread of life';
Heavens' son began his cause.
'It shall save your soul from strife;
It's free, weary not your purse'.
So the grey bird ate the bread
and the darkness fled away.
The despair too, took his bed,
and muttered off as a castaway.
David O. Olusanya
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem