Signs Of Torture Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

Watch my back and see the red strips
The red spots where the tongue of fire
Tortured me in the midst of fear and anxiety
Look at my face and see bruises done by no one
Else than the kind cruel mortal strangers
With burning fierce passion of wickedness
They killed our brothers and sisters and
Abducted our young girls to humiliate them and
Ridicule our country in the face of the world.
My legs wobbled and I cried every minutes
With no one to look in my direction for care
Under the oak tree we lay awake waiting
Waiting for the destruction yet unfulfilled
Fears built hut in our heart and love sounds stupid
When are we going to die?
Whose turn to die?
Whose hands shall we die?
Who would kill us all, by hand or bomb?
Our bellies had dried up yet they see it not
Our skins smell horribly yet they enjoyed it
Watch the signs in my air, watch it
Look back, back and front and behold our pains
Our children are brutalized yet they were given bitterleaf
Water to drink, drink with smile and joy
The candle flame gone astray for they give us no light
But the dryness could only be seen in our lips.
Who shall rescue us from this inhuman?
The messiah is yet to come with his archangel
Are we all going to die before he comes?
We need a little breathe of fresh air
And the casting off those signs in us