Let's let sleep the dead roaring moos of Biafra fa
May the course of all worldly governments run ought ye
Let's mourn on high unto the ways of David's; tear
flow down our all living eyes soaked so sickly in blood
and fill the earth's unto reeking forlorn of atom of dirt
All Blacks and Whites wear your sacks as cloths
Clothe up your pride without within waste bins
and wet your toxic thirst with your urines
All eyes should bulge out with stripes of blood veins marked
As our hairs too should grow too tall touching the tepid nature of nature nigh
Lo, Lord your works are wondrous as you are dearly dangerous
as You are nice like the ice which cools the heating thirst of lass
We worship You even as we see seeing sockets as eyes
Skeletons of humans crawling their arid deserts without desserts
in Somalia
What of Nigeria?
In Somalia there is pain and agony
There's the tour of dearth and death is reaping the remnants
of this dry fun
From dusk to dawn
And parents and peers are pierced
In loss and lust for food to feed once in forty four fortnights
For there their dear towns are as dry as silence as noising their nature
Father, we cry unto You in Your hidden haven to yield
Your rain we beg to pelt the drought in Somalia into wet
We want water to fill their desert into green grasses where
happy apples grow green and oranges stand youthfully yellow
Where tomatoes show off really red and pepper peppering pupils' pupils....
Make it rain down their drain cleansing their penury n' pain
Make those dis-eased mouths munch yams and beans
and well whilst their thatched roofs feel the touch of Your pelting kindness.
©2019 Jodekss Gloatkenf