Sanguinary Season Poem by Jude Fuhnwi

We gather and hear granny's alluring stories
Granny isn't frail, she's old and grey
So, we wake up every morning to her story of glories
And of woes, because not every story will obey.
Every season of her life is full of chapters;
Each one is a book of delightful memories
And there are countless chapters.

Granny's stories are a season of my life
If I grow old, I'll have only her stories on my fife
Because not every life has an amazing story to tell
And,
I'll have lost mine to them that don't mean well;
Because everyone here is a walking dead body,
In this land where life has lost its prosody.

My life is full of cheap but painful exits
Because not every listening ear wants to fix it;
And I'll have no chapter of it for my children
Because I'll have lost them all to the siren.
And yes,
That'll be my gory story!

And here's why:

They take up arms
And put lives down;
We reclaim hope from harm
And they take babies down;
We begrudgingly regain faith,
And they sing Babylon;
In show of might in the showdown
And here we are,
Unable to reclaim the long-lost harmony.