Martyrs Of Owo Poem by Uche Nwanze

Teardrops like raindrops fill our eyes
Our hearts are forlorn like shredded paper
Sleep, stolen from our eyes
Happiness gone on exile to the land beyond
Owo weeps for her daughters and sons
The cry of Morenike rents the skies, her children snatched from her
To the house of worship they throng
A sanctuary for thirsting souls
Their father's house, for a bountiful harvest they beseech
Songs of joy, now chorus of death
Dance of happiness, now the macabre dance of death
Cut down by fiendish cowards, pellets of fire rent the air
A staccato of bullets, the cacophony of cries the heavens hear
The blood of the Martyrs cry out for justice
No mortal can avenge the innocents
The blood of the martyrs, restless till their death be avenged
Outpouring of Pentecost, an outpouring of tears
The serenity of the vicinity lost to oblivion
Never to be forgotten, they live forever in our hearts
Your condemnation we condemn, justice we demand
Your blood, a libation to liberate our land
Your sacrifice, expiation for the injustice
Alas! You transcend the cosmos to the celestial
Your bones, canonized in the hearts of the faithful
No more weeping, no more wailing
With the saints, innumerable like the stars
Hosanna you chorus before the visible and invisible being
He alone has the answers
He alone will avenge.