Streets Of Blood
scampering legs stomps the muddy street
incoherence to blasts from killing machines
whose bullets pierce through weak street bricks.
Cries of babies and mother collides
and sky was painted with murmuration
as yelling of SON! SON ! echoes in the wind
mother summoning her dying children.
Street of hucksters and mongers
now rowdy like a football stadium
as machine gun distant speeches,
deafen my hearing whilst I try to lift my legs.
.. "who'll come to our aid
and quench this crime furnace? "
I call weakly as bodies mount
and the puddles are like pool of red wine.
Beside the closed baba-ijebu kiosk
I watch masked men tally up
to bless the street with blazing fire
as sirens of government's watch dogs
approach the massacred and perpetrated vicinity
I watch bullet shaking hands in the wind
and black armoured men kissing the street soul.
Tears cascade from my eyes
as I watch machete thrust its way
into frail bodiesbof future leaders
as they fall like rain
bloodstream dusk we subscribed to.
... we're thirsty for justice water
but who'll swallow his pride and climb the altar.
if only the iroko trees were devastated at tender age
and demons are showed the way to education
while cubs are locked up in the den
my street won't be as hard as mounting a plain hill
But will the hunter shoot a dog
whose senses add meat to his table?
©Iamteazhy
®The Living Legend
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