Earth writhes in revolt
Its core sodden with life-fluids haemorrhage
Of ashen flowers long
Starved of chlorophyll,
The sun keeping her disdainful distance.
The forest, the forest lies
Blinking shards of expired logs as saplings struggle to peep through
Shrouds of embering ash
That wilt their yellowing petals…
Insensate to stimuli,
Pachyderms stomp in Bacchic abandon,lost
In nirvana of orchestrated joys!
Festivities in black
The earth mourns her
Spawn mown down at high noon,miles away from laughter.
Gory festival!
When shall it all cease?
Who shall prick the calloused soles of forest tetrarchs to sodden earth? And how shall the blood-floods be dammed?
@ Chris Anyokwu. December 26,2023
***Prof. Chris Anyokwu teaches English (Literature) in UNILAG
