On Sacrifice Day Poem by Ifeoluwa Philips

.
Blood of cowries
Innocently shed
Meanwhile, a white ram is laid
And a dark goat was slain
For a sacrifice
Mother told me something new
Which my father chased me off before
I heard the crying of a sea beings
With a soft cloud tears
Rainbow plead for them
That with their hands a light of knife
All saint drank of the innocent blood
Like a wine of furious
Since others lost their calabash for ritual
A red cloud embraced their lives
And suddenly, we lost their standing
No one could say
Even the priest lost his understanding
For all lad laughed hard
And suckler shed tears
They knew the way they went
It is off this world
By the stream
A masquerade fell
And all their aroma of joy was refrained
Sourish songs of the saints
No wonder, the land is embellish with their sons blood
Little voice of an aged
And lousy talks of a new age
Ballistically thunder dance
And clapped for their main dancers
And singers lost their main chords
And progressions was find beneath their tongues
A soul for thousands cry
And sole for a leopard night
Sacrifice was made
And made in song of sorrow
No more tears left
And no offering fond
Land accommodated fear
As all lost bow of wine
And elders wrapped their curse in their camp for sacrifice
What could be wrong? A wise asked
And fool jubilate in fear
All land is wet of blood
Blood of cowries and of all saints
Wicked paid their price with saint's blood
But no other of same voice
Letting go off the ground
This day of sacrifice....