DEAD VOICES

Blood flows like a river,
In villages and streets,
Homes deserted,
In Benue, Taraba and Pleateu. 

Dead voices are in tears, 
Souls weep in solitude,
Spirits stranded on the other side,
Weeping echoes on every roof.

At nights, strange faces
with daggers, knifes and rifles 
Visit villages,
Slaughtering humans like rams. 

These dastard marauders,
Come like a thief at nights, 
Hunting people like rabbits,
Killing their hobbies.

Man has ceased to be humane,
Man a cantankerous being,
Who rejoices in daggering and knifing
Human flesh.

Their consciences are dead,
Their deeds will haunt them,
Dead voices cry for vengeance,
Family and friends feast in pain.