Fractured Lines

"Ratatatatatata"... that harbinger of sorrow women and children wailing and crying men scampering and dying on the farm plains lies dead bodies bodies of innocent citizens graffiti of blood trail everywhere Flies feasting and buzzing Police siren wailing and buzzing Oh! They are late! The gun wielders are gone Into the thick bush they disappear Promises broken and hopes dashed Families broken and dreams crashed Then they make speeches and excuses Lives are lost Human life, not cattle Precious lives not meat Hmm, Orphans are made! We all blamed IPOB with voice they fought Like ants they marched With sticks they pushed But with tanks they were crushed Alas, the gun wielders are criminals The men of voice are terrorists Yet in one country we live What a fractured line! What a world.