War Paints With Only Red… by Osalam Wosu 


Across the Niger’s banks I strolled 

Gloom envelopes the land 

The water with waves does tap 

and console the earth 

But no room is there for mirth

Death has swallowed the miracle of birth 

And it’s bones to us

It refuses to spit 


‘pon it’s waters I sailed 

“is the riverbed always a crimson red? “

My reflection seems to bleed 

At the sight of me

Tales of things called fish

Are myths, to be laughed at 

The water as we know

An ever turbulent mausoleum


Amidst these I wake 

revelation of the price 

For the route we choose to take 

In blind pursuit of peace, lies 

No peace when we mar, but make 

A better place 

In this land of ours

Their preaching of war, fake

Nay, the fool we’d be not, twice.


©2017 2edged Pen



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