The radio coughs up a voice
And soon it multiplies,
Countless creaky cries crisscrossing–
A sonic of undiluted terror.Weakness is an armour too easy to weild,
Its thinness clads the quaver of the heart
Like a slice of glass before steel.
Listen to the frequency,
The ominous mirroring of despair.
Outside lies the bodies,
Heaps of vanquished dreams,
On the redness of earth and blood.
The woman cannot wipe her tears
For her hands carry the child
Of her dead neighbour:
Another soul withers away
Before a drop taps the ground.
And we watch from slanted louvers,
From barricaded shelters,
Awaiting our parts
In this comedy of slaughter.


┬ęSamuel Adeyemi

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