When The Dana Bird Crashed Poem by Melody Thaila Kuku

Bad Engines, faulty parts.
Who cares? It doesn't matter, we'll fly anyhow.
The ear is filled with slapping of currencies together.
Who cares?

Nothing ever happens.
And so they say as they fly the rusted bird.
Route to route Pilots whispers shakey prayers.
Yes, nothing ever happens.

Then one day the bird gets sick and can go no more
But it holds on a while,
Distress calls are received

Control Tower is confused,
Cabin Crew calm is going fray.
Fear rules now for its rapidly made a King.
Men holds wives, women clutch children.
Everywhere agog with cries and fear laden prayers.
The journey to the creator was not expected,
At least not yet.

Thoughts drift back to the life lived.
All the precious words to be spoken to loved ones,
Opportunity to be taken, peace to enjoy.
Now to be sacrificed,
As burnt offering to the air.

Chaos walks loose with fear,
as the carriage of death lowers, descending on innocent buildings,
A man asleep in his room,
A mother in her kitchen,
Some with eyes glued to TV,
A loud sound then all lay unconscious.

The Bird's occupants screams pierces Heaven's ears.
''Jump off, ' the thoughts scream'.
My wife, my husband, ny children, my life were last words.
And in a split second, fire embraces them.
Cries of pain, choking roasted aroma fills the air as flesh burns.

Beautiful souls, charred.
Ambitions razed to ashes,
Dreams blown away by the wind.
Stumps left as testimonies of lives.
Testimonies of those sacrifced.

Sacrificed? Yes, sacrificed.
All because because they dwelt in a country where anyhing went.
Who cares? It doesn't matter.
A faulty Bird was new as long as it could caress the air.

Then blames were passed.
But if the charred souls were to blame,
Who and what will their blame slash at?
Those who cared for the carriage of death
Or those who compromised the rules for Birds owners?
Who cares? It doesn't matter.