Dispatched in staccato ceremony of serial rapine,
lone Promise of the family tree lay machete in hand,
not as a farm impliment to the wild of heaven,for they neither toil nor till yonder,
but Ogun’s weapon of war
on insensate beasts,buccaneers of blood sworn against justice; enemies of laughter.
Seeker after equitable scales,this undead Promise will not look away like the seeing Lady of Justice in this crime scene; ballerina of amnesiac score-settling and biased adjudication.
No,this rude severance of earth and spawn is memory code to whet fury’s edge in endless campaigns of comeuppance.
On this wounded earth,crime’s last redoubt shall crumble as Ogun brings the sullied to swift coup-de-grace.
Sometimes justice plods with leaden feet shackled by epic calculus of interest. But bones and silence intone a paean to swift-winged justice to stay the reign of ruin.
If the living wilts in fires of fear,lightning retribution from beyond flesh shall be a Promise kept.
@Chris Anyokwu. 3 April,2026.
( This poem was inspired by the meme on the burial of the murdered only child,Promise, in the Jos Massacre recently. )
