Poetry

August 10, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

 

 

Terrorism, the mis-creed of religion

 

 

Bonded and yoked partisan

Free, yet enslaved fanatic

Flying a cursed route

Treading a forbidden zone,

Preaching a serpentine gospel

Terrorism, the mis-creed of religion.

 

Devoted and arrested ‘religioner’

Dedicated, committed enthusiast

Ardent, faithful loyalist

Ready, gallant spy

Brave, deceitful viper

Terrorism, mis-creed of religion.

 

The oracle of missiles

The brother of rockets,

The priest of gun

The saint of death

The god of destruction

Terrorism, mis-creed of religion.

 

The son of torture

The bread of war

The signature of bombs

The agreement of weapons,

The revival of doom

Terrorism, mis-creed of religion.

 

Bulletproof his organ

Virgins are worried,

Tick tock, the blast

Heaven is agog

Let the merry begin,

Terrorism, mis-creed of religion.

 

The peak of righteousness

Heritage divine, destiny fulfilled

Baton of peace, marathon of light

To God be the glory

Onward, forward ever

Terrorism, mis-creed of religion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jungle justice, a thorn in the heart

 

 

Yells, voices, clubs, crowd

Condemnations, chants, choruses

Harsh chase, fierce search

Rods, irons, machetes, weapons

Tyres, fuel, the rage to burn

The anxiety to put to death

Mobocracy, a thorn on humanity.

 

Some not guilty nor proven

Some either to be jailed or fined

Some either cautioned or gainfully employed,

Some not to die

Some no evidence, mere speculation

Some, a malicious rumour

Some, envy, scandals and gossips

A lot, no reasonable facts

Hidden truths, undisclosed deals

Unknown lies, a trail of vengeance

Jungle justice, shadow of inhumanity.

 

A common dish to strangers

A dirty garment for visitors,

A note of hate and bitterness

Alien to love and unity

Jungle justice, a barren field.

 

Mobocracy, a cruel zeal

A harsh treatment and intolerance

A basin of soured dinner

A tree of fruitless branches

An epidemic, a xenophobia

Jungle justice, injustice to mankind.

 

Superstition and ignorance

Tradition and culture

Religion and belief

Rivalry and opposition,

Not too holy a mob

Seizing, ceasing the hands of time

Inflicting pain and perpertual agony,

All, a box of rags

Wisdom turns it a coat of many colours.

 

Back, home the trauma boils

Old parents go insane

Hopeful siblings waiting a nurture

Wretched home searching for pasture,

Innocent family praying for future

Relatives needing a gesture

Community abhoring the vulture

Mobocracy, the enemy of justice

A thorn in the heart of the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a young writer from Nigeria. From a family of eight, including both parents she is the second daughter but fourth child. She read Estate Management and has some experience in Banking and Broadcasting.

She has published some works in a Liberian magazine, Ghanian news platform and an Indian poetry publication.

Many of her works have gone abroad for evaluation and publication. She wrote the longest poems/rhymes in the world, yet to be published. Writing is life.

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