Dawn of the Bloody Massacre

Into the fiery cave she goes

Armed with the truth of her decaying carcass

Heavy the load of brutality that sucked away the promise of akamu at daybreak and egusi soup at nightfall

The pilgrimage that defies the scribes of forthright martyrs that conveyed the doctrines of sacrilege, has coiled in recognition of the tiniest of souls sent to impart the hellish codes of insidious messengers

The template of gestation dangles with every step as the feebly small fingers grip the jagged triggers that will alight the path to the ashes of infinity

The mind unable to grasp the totality of neglect weighing down the nymph-like mode of the unrequited members that scramble in earnest, as the gods above scream in high tempo

The blast

The complete embodiment of limbs, screams, glazed eyeballs and fingers stuck on the melting bolts of inferno

The filthy ground of sweat and blood intermix into a froth of crispy skin and blackened nails as the spirit of thousands lifting in unison rocks the deserted air

The mighty fall at will but the weak bow to the eruption of time, space and movement

Once she was a girl in uniform and then a lass in a dress

Once she sucked on her mother’s breast for nourishment after she took her first breath

Once she drew on the ground with a piece of chalk to mark where to playfully step

Once she bathed under the moonlight before being ordered to bed

Once she walked into the classroom and read the words of freedom out loud

Then afterwards she took her last breath and raced into the clouds.