Oswald Okaitei’s Elegy For The Flood and Fire Disaster Victims

With breaths’ bloods

Written on the memorium canvas of that gory juncture,

Crania

Are engulfed by glaring portraits painted

By the invisible arms

Of running waters and treacherous plights of that night

That night—

An exposure of centenary rottenness that has fermented

And yet smelt good

In the nostrils of some pseudo-lord who gallivant around like )twedeap)n himself

That night—

A nightmare that keeps recurring in memories

Scaring us like does,

The bearded face of the proud monster who does plenty and yet nothing!

That night—

The judas that betrayed sleep and sold feeble souls

Into the claws of death;

A pathway for innocent souls on a premature voyage…

That night—

A vampire that lurked in the shadows

And set its teeth

To suck away breaths into the void world of nothing…

That night—

A call for a nation’s gathering in unceasing tears;

A rejuvenation of fears

And an atonement of weary and plights

That night—

The clarion call to remain mortals

And to lay our eyes

Beyond the strength of mortals and commune with the bearded man who sits beyond the clouds in holiness

That night…

That long undulating night…

That night—

The darkest omen written in the history of my land

Oswald Okaitei

(c)2015