"Friday Mourning Prayer"

 "Friday Mourning Prayer"

At the wake of dawn,

As drowsy bodies were yet to stir their tired whole.

They come upon us suddenly,

Like hungry swarm of locusts,

With machetes, arrows, and guns,

Thirsty for blood at no cause,

Blinded by the blurry slides of religion and tribalism.

They shot sporadically at scampering children,

And ripped bare the hearts and tummies of pregnant women.

Brave men who dared to resist their savagery

With bare arms and sticks were butchered like festive holy rams.

Bodies were piled up like heaps of sacrifice to a brute god.

This massacre went on till the sun was forced out of hiding

By the foul smell of burnt flesh and blood

As the perpetrators disappear like the morning mist into their religious huts 

To observe their daily prayers.