RED SUNDAY by Michael Okwori

(A Poem in memory of DANA)

The rising sun smiled shyly,

Like a mischievous prankster

With a dirty joke up his sleeve.

Prophets watched the day with suspicion.



The wind howled ominously,

Like the wail of a banshee.

Morning birds sang a mournful note,

As dogs barked at wandering spirits.



Worshipers walked warily,

Glancing furtively at other frightened faithfuls

As they hurried to the house of Hallelujahs

Lest they fall for their faith.



Yet the brainless butcher did come

With his knife of devilish determination,

And he did have his fill of blood,

Bathing the earth with an overflow.



The voyage on the eagle‘s wings

Commenced swiftly and suddenly,

Carrying a hundred dreams and desires,

And loud laughter, soon to become screams.



Like the sight of a mesmerizing meteor,

We beheld the fall of the old, weak eagle

As it burnt like Nebuchadnezzar‘s fiery furnace,

Annihilating a hundred beloved souls.



Michael Okwori (c)2012


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