Sounds like riffle,
Flood of bloods.
Shattered and bristled,
All in war.
Young and old, men of valour,
Conscripted and brought,
Down to war front.
Hungry and feigning,
Women of faith.
Ours is victory,
With their thin voice proclaim.
Your child is dying,
The nurse explains.
He is dry and pale,
And our aids have failed.
Families and loved ones,
Lost in this war.
Even properties and treasures,
Lost afterwards.
But the greatest of it all,
Was the battle loss.
Men and brothers,
Wasted, dead and gone.
This is our history,
Though long forgone.
Gradually becoming a reality,
Again and once more.
But we can curb this futility,
If we would be one.
One in unity,
And war against war.
Written by Tojola Ifeoluwanimi
ifeoluwatojola@gmail.com