a poem by Joseph Chukwudiegwu Osita, Nigeria

Behind closed doors, sins scream to see the sun.
Things done in the absent of sunlight
0r a man whose heart is not of stone.
We have sheltered serpents, In the name of relation or common ties.
They are really inversion of friendship.
Whose attitude in daylight credited the clause-help the less privileged'.
But go to their arsenal, the weapons smell the blood of our infants.
But now that a voice from far has soiled their regalia, Their Engines shall roar like a million souls from hell.
And soon we shall go to the west,
Where political power is chained,
To release the divine mercy imprisoned in their hell

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