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When Insect Cries
written by: Ikechukwu Obiorah
The skill to kill is in the shrill cry of insect,
Whistling a vapor in the forest of breath,
And breaking the water pouch of health.
The azure of clay has allotted a leeway
To the ladybug of virus to rule the air,
With the cacophony of pandemonium.
The days of clay are fixed in the web of
Time, and the funnel of clay calling the
Conquistador to put vittles in bazooka.
When the backbone of stone is carrying
The weight of clay, the clay doesn't know
That the stone stomachs bleeding heart.
These days that insect wakes the dead
With a crass of brass noisy to the ears,
The vulva of the clay has become clever.
On the treetop of the slay clay, Udele the
Vulture of culture comes dancing on the
Wake of the night, let the slay clay pray.