ethinks art is deceitfully long
while time flies without wings
along the scary marshy lane.
And my stomach churns
as I watch scary events
that stand on the path of Time.
Must we not then restrain the hoopoe
from perching on the national flag
of the nation
whose fragile foundation is cracking
and orthodoxies breaking?
Do we let our drowning minds
maintain their disquieting calm
before the blanket of billowing cloud
envelopes the sovereign state
like a full eclipse of the sun
while we heave sighs with sullen demeanor.
The arrow has not yet left the bow
but its target is within its full view.
The proxies of Saturn are poised
to unleash their doom.
Must we not nip in the bud
and bend their arsenals into farming tools?
Let not the presence of the ominous bird
on the nationís flag
and its song of grief
be an epitaph on the tombstone.
Augustine C. Ohanwe
January 26, 2014.