Broken Eagles

Death was once a surprise visitor*
before our puny brave men became its visitor!
Death was a fearful thought, acetous sauce*
Until our men licked the bones of fear;
and chewed waters with scissors!

Termites always laid to eat what remains of us*
But never learnt to munch charcoal:
Of roasted bodies turned charcoal;
set ablaze by herders!

Our fathers once taught us*
how to walk on thorny paths!
But how do we count the steps, lest we stroll,
on bombs planted by a playfellow ?
Nor learn to dodge freed unclad bullets
commanded by our fathers descendants.

We no longer mourn for the fallen”
For our head’s log are filled with unspeakable stories;
Nor sit to fetch the tears of griefs into basket;
Nor record songs of laughter!

Yet, we are of those
Known to have seven lives
Wearing the sun as a dress
With stamped emblem of hope

The vulture at the market square*
Took another flesh and flew!
The lonely eagle bird*
Who sat on the ensign,
Flapped; left with broken arms;
And carry in it’s chorus:
“There was a country”

Written By: Nseobong Edem

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