The sun rise from deep slumber one day,
Bringing with it, the rays of the bright sun.
And when the children of the world awake,
Their hearts were filled with fury and anger.

They went in search of tools of war and battle,
To embolden the spirit of destruction within them.
They armed themselves with the crude liquid of fire,
Ready to mar and destroy, without thought of Kin.

Their heart are filled with the fear of their neighbors,
Who has risen above them in wealth and power.
They care not for blood, kinship and color,
That ties them together like brothers in a strange land.

They beat up their brothers with the palm of their hands,
They beat up their brothers with the sole of their feet,
And when they refuse to cough out their final breath,
They burn them with fire, deep red and scalding.

How many innocent life must we end?
How many life must we ruin?
How far must we strain and look,
To see the future that has been destroyed?

How long must we wail and weep?
How loud must we talk and cry?
How many songs of death must we sing,
For the dead to hear our goodbye?

© Okunola Peace.