The Death and Throes of Agony

The trainings and drills were rigorous, Most of the recruits came out victorious. The khaki, boot, helmet and rifle were given, Soldiers. Ready to defend the country for a reason, With their fists and guns - they believe to be glorious. Their posting and peace keeping missions were politically and tribally influenced, Left with no option, they obeyed - an unobjectionable inference, Giving their tomorrow with their bloods for the protection of today, Still dies in a way they have no say, As the General's commands remained effluence. At the Sambisa forest, A battle ground where shootings and shelling seem the hottest, Many of them were shot down, slain and left on the ground to form a manure, While those that politicked and set them up continued their tenure, As they satisfy their own selfish interest. Daily, bullets whiz pass their heads and they take cover, Because they still wish to see their friends, family and lover, Sometimes, they wonder why their lives were made brief, Leaving their parents and community in grief, To be withered like a fallen clover. Many of them are running away from the infantries, Because the Boko-haram sets are sending them to early cemeteries, The survived casualties are now scared, They are physically, emotionally, psychologically marred. Lord have mercy! At the end in our motherland, the insurgent groups are still glorified adversaries. Dedicated to the 157 Task Force Battalion in Metele, Abadam Local Government Area of Borno State, Nigeria, that were massacred at about 6:00 p.m by the Boko-haram members on the 18th November, 2018. Rest in peace.