I remember, blue is the warmest colour And
red is her loveliest anchor As
my jittery cold heart goes through this unyielding journey Following
Chino as his battalion waded on Trod by carcasses, cadavers suffering,
putrefying Headless
maidens fastened to stakes And
minors to tree stumps Even
as their folks down south tore the skies with friendly fire And
devoured rice and chicken, Displaying whiskers like spirited local rabbits.
Dear blue, stick with red and yield to my pious yearning At
least this Christmas Everyone
is home and jolly Yet
mum cannot know Chino is in the battle front Up north - east of it, in the woods of Michika Faced with the
very foe whose best folk is death For
the promise of a certain seven virgins-we are not sure, alibi?
I worked hard in my heart, Communing
with the spirits of my belief That
they may come through the traps in the bridges And
the land mines in the footpaths Alas! Blessings upon our creator for the short
message that came ‘We
av successfully pasd d bridge we
ar nw at bazaa 6km
away frm michika God
iz really our strength we burnt 2 of dere amo tank though
we lost 6 soldiers.’
And my response ‘Thank God! I
plead d bld of Jesus upon u n d rest of the trps. Our
prayers r wth u n in my hrt I knw u wl make it. Let me knw if u gt 2 town. Bravo!’
Alas,the prayer of a simpleton Who ever let his sibling join now in defence of fatherland From peace poachers, terror peddlers and unfriendly fire Pardon is my plea,Nigeria. Just grant me and my little brother, A bouquet of blue and a red, holy wreath.
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