Thou Precious and Guiltless Nigerian Blood

The whips of smoke was thickly spiraled all over my face, I stood at the shrine, rather the church, The eerie and somber silence within the cave scourged me, As the nocturnal owls spoke cabalistic monologues, Ushering in a hint of death in the icy breath of the gale. In the dead of the night, the ornery birds quiesced, Suddenly, the cry of a mysterious cat tore through the air, And died after a second or third shrill meow. Amid the direful calamities of the time, And in a weird world of morbid horrors, I just prayed to die, but I didn’t. As if by a magic, the owl disappeared, And a balding vulture surfaced on a tree branch, Its eyes glowed in the dark like a halogen lamp, As the hands of time ticks, It moved closer to my expiring frame, Ready to devour every flesh attached to my trembling bones. Many throats have been slashed in this evil forest, Lineations of gushing bloods whirled round my troubled soul, My heart asserted itself again, thunderously beating, As my whole frame seemed collapsed and shrinking, Hope was just far and dim, As I watched the seventh victim being dissected with a machete, And his life hurriedly detached. Now, trussed up and dumped on a heap of human skulls and skeletons, To be sacrificed to a blood-tasty deity, The chains on my neck and hands almost suffocated me, Time was just still with fathomless blackness, Leaving me to sing lustily as if to exorcise the demon of gloom, Alas, a monstrous figure appeared with an axe and sword. Her stare on me lasted and later dissolved, That was undoubtedly an awful and implacable approach of doom. My helpless and defenseless body became more coldish and clammy, Struck dumb with strange astound, She smiled disarmingly and stepped towards me, And said “Thou precious and guiltless Nigerian blood, Go home, build and rule your world while I die for you”. I woke up, it was just a nightmare full of messages.