THE SIGHT OF WAR EVERYWHERE
Poetic expressions rattled with stylistic devices and interpretations,
With all panoramas of drawing support for our soldiers in th...is
War against terror
By Aguiyi Henry
History once again lures to repeat itself,
Our pasts swelling before us,
As it were, like the old hellos nightmares,
Repeatedly, we are all at War again,
War against our motherland.
In the north, we hear the sounds of war preparation –
Watching Boko Haram killing hundreds of our helpless citizens.
In the south, we hear the sound of guns –
The MENDs freedom fighters rolling out from the creeks.
MASSOB and IPOB assembling all over the world busy hanging the flag of Biafra.
The OPC invoking the fighting spirit of Oduduwa.
PDP knifing each other in the name of politics.
APC scrooge throwing stones from our nation's glasshouse-
With every obligation that this house must fall apart.
The music of war drums everywhere –
We see thousands of militants assembling.
We see the pale cheek of our women crying with tears,
All in pains and great fears of panics.
Our old patriots are now craving for peace in the name of political dialogue.
Still in those assemblages of troublemakers, we see no accord,
Yet we see hundreds of deaths everywhere and every day.
The north wants more blood while the east crave for freedom.
More bombs in our rocky capital, kidnapping, and murder--
In the forest of Iba for satanic rituals.
In addition with those brought down by our heroic gallant soldiers,
In the savannah, the once conquered territory of the renegades---
We see thousands of death every now, that we have lost sight of counting.
Truly, we are all here when our today noble soldiers were enlisted in the army.
We all saw them part from their loved ones to defend our great nation
We once hear their whisperings and the sweet vows of their eternal love for our nation.
In sweat and blood, love and tears, with every might they will fight
Moreover, defend the territorial integrity of our great nation.
Yet in the savannah, the war is yet to be over, fear everywhere
Women are kissing their babes that are asleep--
Not knowing if they may live till tomorrow
While young men are receiving the blessings of old men.
Some are parting with mothers who hold them
And press them to their hearts with prays to survive the time.
Repeatedly, the rocky Duke and duchess says nothing and sees nothing,
Kisses and tears, tears and kisses of death –
Divine mingling of agony, in fear and in love! Our young men are dying
Hear us as we are speaking with voices endeavoring with brave heart,
Spoken in those great old tones
that drives from the hearts of the awful fears of death
With deep expressions of uncertainties--
Saying in exclamations,” we cannot tell if we may live until the next day”!
We now see our children part finally-
We see our women of the savannahs standing,
Standing with babes in their arms –
Standing in the sunlight sobbing.
Holding high in her loving arms, her child.
Here and there, her man and other children are gone,
We see soldiers keeping time to the ground,
With wild music of war –
Mad world! Mad kings! Mad compositions-
All marching down the streets of the savannahs –
Through the towns and across the prairies –
Down to the fields of glorious battle
To kill and to die for the eternal right of all.
I once feel like going to field with our soldiers to save our great nation,
For the last time.
We must be by their side on this war against terror or perish like fools
Even in the hospitals of pains --.
We must stand guard with our soldiers in the wildest storm
And under the quiet stars of heavens.
We stand with them in this ravines running with blood of men –
In the furrows of our old fields.
We must stand with them in contending the terrorists,
A move to stop them from their wild thirst for blood,
Even when life ebbing slowly away among the withered leaves of lives.
We must stand with them even when pierced and torn by fireballs of war.
In their trenches, in their garrison and citadel, and in the whirlwind of charge
Where men become iron, with nerves of steel.
We must stand with our soldiers in the prisons of hatred by the terrorists;
We must stand with them.
Nevertheless, human speech can never tell what our soldiers have endured
We are at home watching televisions when news comes that our soldiers are ambushed to death by the terrorists.
We see their young maidens, damsels and families in their own shadows of sorrow.
We see the silvered head of our soldiers bowed with the last grief finally to the mother earth.
Our past now rises before us, oh, we have passed this root before, yet we are watching it happening again and again
We saw four millions of human slayed by the lash of death in the past, yet we are allowing it to happen repeatedly –
People from mangrove forest saw it all, their men bound hands and foot to death -- their hound’s women tracked through tangled swamps for survival, their babes taken from the breasts of their mothers and slaughtered by kwashiorkor. Cruelty unspeakable! Outrage infinite yet we are watching it happening again in the name of faith!
All the sacred relations of wife, mother, father and child are now trampled beneath the brutal feet of might and crudity of the extremists. ,
All this are done under our own beautiful banner of the free world and democracy.
Our pasts now rise before us. We are hearing the roar and shriek of the bursting shell. The sound of fetters bonds here and there. We look on as our men, women, and children dies. We see homes, security post, schoolhouses, and books on fire.
Our land may run red with blood of wars – but in the midst of all battles, in the roar of conflicts, the solutions to our problems will always be laid on the round table of justices and mutual reasoning, not by the serenity of war and death, fear and hatred!
I have one sentiment for all fighters living and dead: cheers for the living; tears for the dead; fluke for the Nation
Poetic expressions rattled with stylistic devices and interpretations,
With all panoramas of drawing support for our soldiers in th...is
War against terror
By Aguiyi Henry
History once again lures to repeat itself,Our pasts swelling before us,
As it were, like the old hellos nightmares,
Repeatedly, we are all at War again,
War against our motherland.
In the north, we hear the sounds of war preparation –
Watching Boko Haram killing hundreds of our helpless citizens.
In the south, we hear the sound of guns –
The MENDs freedom fighters rolling out from the creeks.
MASSOB and IPOB assembling all over the world busy hanging the flag of Biafra.
The OPC invoking the fighting spirit of Oduduwa.
PDP knifing each other in the name of politics.
APC scrooge throwing stones from our nation's glasshouse-
With every obligation that this house must fall apart.
The music of war drums everywhere –
We see thousands of militants assembling.
We see the pale cheek of our women crying with tears,
All in pains and great fears of panics.
Our old patriots are now craving for peace in the name of political dialogue.
Still in those assemblages of troublemakers, we see no accord,
Yet we see hundreds of deaths everywhere and every day.
The north wants more blood while the east crave for freedom.
More bombs in our rocky capital, kidnapping, and murder--
In the forest of Iba for satanic rituals.
In addition with those brought down by our heroic gallant soldiers,
In the savannah, the once conquered territory of the renegades---
We see thousands of death every now, that we have lost sight of counting.
Truly, we are all here when our today noble soldiers were enlisted in the army.
We all saw them part from their loved ones to defend our great nation
We once hear their whisperings and the sweet vows of their eternal love for our nation.
In sweat and blood, love and tears, with every might they will fight
Moreover, defend the territorial integrity of our great nation.
Yet in the savannah, the war is yet to be over, fear everywhere
Women are kissing their babes that are asleep--
Not knowing if they may live till tomorrow
While young men are receiving the blessings of old men.
Some are parting with mothers who hold them
And press them to their hearts with prays to survive the time.
Repeatedly, the rocky Duke and duchess says nothing and sees nothing,
Kisses and tears, tears and kisses of death –
Divine mingling of agony, in fear and in love! Our young men are dying
Hear us as we are speaking with voices endeavoring with brave heart,
Spoken in those great old tones
that drives from the hearts of the awful fears of death
With deep expressions of uncertainties--
Saying in exclamations,” we cannot tell if we may live until the next day”!
We now see our children part finally-
We see our women of the savannahs standing,
Standing with babes in their arms –
Standing in the sunlight sobbing.
Holding high in her loving arms, her child.
Here and there, her man and other children are gone,
We see soldiers keeping time to the ground,
With wild music of war –
Mad world! Mad kings! Mad compositions-
All marching down the streets of the savannahs –
Through the towns and across the prairies –
Down to the fields of glorious battle
To kill and to die for the eternal right of all.
I once feel like going to field with our soldiers to save our great nation,For the last time.
We must be by their side on this war against terror or perish like fools
Even in the hospitals of pains --.
We must stand guard with our soldiers in the wildest storm
And under the quiet stars of heavens.
We stand with them in this ravines running with blood of men –
In the furrows of our old fields.
We must stand with them in contending the terrorists,
A move to stop them from their wild thirst for blood,
Even when life ebbing slowly away among the withered leaves of lives.
We must stand with them even when pierced and torn by fireballs of war.
In their trenches, in their garrison and citadel, and in the whirlwind of charge
Where men become iron, with nerves of steel.
We must stand with our soldiers in the prisons of hatred by the terrorists;
We must stand with them.
Nevertheless, human speech can never tell what our soldiers have endured
We are at home watching televisions when news comes that our soldiers are ambushed to death by the terrorists.
We see their young maidens, damsels and families in their own shadows of sorrow.
We see the silvered head of our soldiers bowed with the last grief finally to the mother earth.
Our past now rises before us, oh, we have passed this root before, yet we are watching it happening again and again
We saw four millions of human slayed by the lash of death in the past, yet we are allowing it to happen repeatedly –
People from mangrove forest saw it all, their men bound hands and foot to death -- their hound’s women tracked through tangled swamps for survival, their babes taken from the breasts of their mothers and slaughtered by kwashiorkor. Cruelty unspeakable! Outrage infinite yet we are watching it happening again in the name of faith!
All the sacred relations of wife, mother, father and child are now trampled beneath the brutal feet of might and crudity of the extremists. ,
All this are done under our own beautiful banner of the free world and democracy.
Our pasts now rise before us. We are hearing the roar and shriek of the bursting shell. The sound of fetters bonds here and there. We look on as our men, women, and children dies. We see homes, security post, schoolhouses, and books on fire.
Our land may run red with blood of wars – but in the midst of all battles, in the roar of conflicts, the solutions to our problems will always be laid on the round table of justices and mutual reasoning, not by the serenity of war and death, fear and hatred!
I have one sentiment for all fighters living and dead: cheers for the living; tears for the dead; fluke for the Nation
