Our tears are not dried yet
And our eyes are still red like blood
Rivulets of catarrh still drip from the holes above our chin
And our boots are still stained with blood
Vultures are still dancing for more carcasses
While dead heroes sleep in the battlefield
Donkey’s years after, the scars are still remembered even when our flags have gone to sleep
Mother hen caters for her chicks but in our own case, it is an own goal
Scored by the mistake of the past and our feet are still sore
Oh! Egbe ntu, you have killed me
Have you seen what you caused?
Oh! Ogbu n’ igwe, l am sore all over
And your case is not different mother country
You are responsible for our undried tears
You are responsible for the scars that reminds us of the past
Were you not the one that made us go to war?
That sound that trilled the air
That pierced my skin
That sound that bend my back to hide amongst the leaves and still my fate is to sleep in the battlefield and my gun thrown apart
Gushes of blood dripping like water
Flies clung in clumps on my maimed body
The bitter taste of it all is that l lay sprawling and still stabbed on the back
The memories that beats my imagination is that l cry, looking for whom to dry my tears.
By Dim lfeanyichukwu