The Broken link
(In memory of Nigeria-Biafra War)
We called on him.
In vain he answered us.
He had died at dusk.
And the night passed unsung
We didn’t sing the moonlight songs
Never sang merry-be-my-friend again.
Only the leaves above rustled,
Singing mutely to the patched moon above
And the link was cut and broken at dusk.
We mourned the night passed unsung.
Only night beings hummed songs that
Rose above Rooftops, and away
Into the nights.
Soon his mother’s sobbing receded
As night’s winds lured her to sleep.
Above, the sky wore patches of mangled
Cloud. Lucifer was there casting
Lots for the nations on the Niger.
Doom had overtaken our innocence.
Soon the airplane came, rumbling noisier than
Her usual gentle flight.
Sparks of suppressed play zests unwound in us.
We rushed to the open to shout her farewell
To the unknown.
It was bombs and explosions shattered us all.
Since then, we never sang
Merry-be-my-friend again nor
Fared well to the airplane.