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.