and filing of blades in the battle for bones and flesh.
Stream of blood flows,
across the altar,
that prays the slaughter of men.
Stench of horror arrest the atmosphere,
as grave of silence hides in the room filled with fear
one way in,
the way in out.
empty bodies of souls.
Whose patience awaits the judgement of their ill fates.
Rain of hot tears that blur the sight,
as they approach the altar,
that prays their death
Blood is sold in litres.
Intestines in strands.
Eyes and kidneys in pairs.
Tongues in bits.
Flesh in sizes.
whose courage of wickedness,
are lured by the taste of greed for quick riches.
human parts for sale.
Blood in the eyes.
The lacrimal-glands are dried.
Hearts are wrapped,
in the wickedness of life.
Mercy has died long ago in its birth.
No justice of security in the land.
Wasted are lives,
in those hidden secluded corners of life.
Rise and pray,
a glimpse trip,
into the world of men of the underworld,
who gives scare to our land.
About the writer:
Michael Oyeyemi Sui generis is a budding poet. A student of FCAH&PT
Phone number: 08162333845