John Chizoba Vincent Poet Ode

We Are Lost

The hope is gone
The four corner of
the street 
Had tasted the sweet
and bitter part of 
Our crying blood in
horror.
The soil knows the
colour of our tears 
The earthworms and
maggots had feasted 
More of the body and
soul of our
brothers.
When shall we live
in peace like others
Not brothers against
his brother and
sister in tears?
When shall the
terrible sound of
explosion ceased?
They said they are
powerless and weak
They said they are
nothing they could
do 
While people die in
pains and agony.
The black hearts are
more powerful than
them.
We are left in a
bloody arena
In doubt and fear
with a terrible
hope.
No one knows his
last meal, perhaps
the cloth his 
Wearing might be the
last cloth he put on
by his self.
We are lost in a
ditch, yes we are.
I saw the division,
i saw the break out 
Of a lost nation in
the midst of wolves.
I torn verses of
words out of my
mouth,
I broke the tears in
my eyes but couldn't

Maintain the
atmosphere condition
of innocent blood
Spread merrily in
the street every
night and day.
We smile amidst
tears, dance whilst
crying.
Sorrow laugh at us,
mock us on the lost
throne.
I could not with
stand those sound
and news of lost
ones
So i write
beautifully so that
the world could hear

See that we keep not
quiet like the duck 
but we scream like
the hen whose chick
was carried by a
kite.

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