artwork: ralph murre
by
Olajide vincent Ajise
We
live in a war zone,
Mars’
solitary confinement,
where
demons wearing turbans
perform
ablutions
with
cooked-blood of cherubs.
Here,
adrenaline rushes
at
the herald of shrapnel;
sights
feed on blood-red corpses. Sadism.
We
are now a sod
living
under the canopy of grisliness;
a
hamlet experiencing hell on earth,
For
the mitochondrion of our glory
has
been pilfered by bombs
and
fear now writes epitaphs
on
the nudity of our streets.
Help
us, please.
~
first published in The Poet Community
