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Poem

War 
in 
her 
wedding
gown
The 
bride 
of 
the 
world
Waiting 
for 
her 
groom
to 
come
Some 
say 
its 
a 
conjugal
bliss
While 
others 
say 
a 
vale
of 
tears
From 
what 
I 
captured
live 
from 
my 
telly
I 
hold 
with 
those 
who
say 
vale 
of 
tears
Two-
drummers 
are
beating 
their 
drums
mingles 
with 
the 
sound
of 
a 
gong
War 
touches 
her 
head
and 
her 
anus
She 
faces 
the 
four
cardinal 
points
And 
she 
dances 
and
turns 
in 
an 
india-
style
Alas, 
viewers 
go 
the
way 
of 
all 
flesh
Péople 
wobbling 
up 
and
down
Because 
the 
bride 
has
gone 
mad
She 
runs 
here 
and 
there
As 
if 
she've 
lost 
her
groom
She 
runs 
to 
the 
market
Shops 
and 
houses 
fell
to 
swallow 
human
bodies
A 
large 
passage 
to
infant 
graves
And 
be 
one 
external
viewer
I 
snivel 
for 
peace
Later, 
the 
two
drummers 
vanished 
like
a 
candle 
flame
My 
people,
The 
fame 
of 
war,
Is 
the 
flood 
of 
human
blood
And 
still, 
war 
is 
calling
for 
her 
groom
Which 
are 
yet 
to 
be
found
To 
tell 
the 
drummers
the 
need 
for 
harmony
But 
now, 
the 
drummers
are 
gone
And 
the 
innocent
viewers 
die 
like 
flies
Until 
the 
day 
the
drummers 
are 
in
harmony
Thereafter, 
her 
groom
will 
come 
to 
the 
scene
to 
appease 
her
Adesitimi 
Taiwo

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