The whirling Storm of Evil

From the dark recluse in my thatched mud hut

I barricaded myself; with the palm of my hands

pressing tightly against my ears, vainly trying

to shut out the mournful tune of the dirge playing

at the village square on the Ekere drum

The wind, like a harbinger of evil news, hung

in the air over the thatched roof of my hut,

bearing the mourning cry of the women

from the distance, occasionally punctured

by an equally dreadful hooting of the night owl

A soul has departed from among the living

and the evil spirits from the dark realm have come

to usher the departing soul of the dead, home

Leaving a pulsating dread and gloom, that pervades the

psychic of the children in our ancient kingdom

Our childhood dreadful evil has now metamorphosed

into mortal being, pervading our world in abandoned

recklessness; visiting every home and nation with 

a satanic cruelty that leaves us soaked in frightful dread

No clime is spared from these marauding diseased beings

How did mankind plunge himself into this abyss of barbaric

culture and life style, that is threatening to consume our race

And yet, we pretend all is fair and well, while the whirling

Storm of evil, being let loose in our shores from the fringe of hell,

is wreaking unimaginable murder and mayhem that is likened to the

great tribulation

It is time for those with the light to shine their light

stronger and brighter, from shore to shore; in every home and city

to chase away this malaise, attired in a mortal cloak, terrorizing the human race

Lest, like an enveloping mist, the darkness will spread over our world, and

the light we’ve hidden under our bushel

Then, our land will be trodden under the sodden feet of evil.