Deliver us from their Hands

Their training ground they
Buried deep within the earth
Living with ants and rats
Under the illuminating darkness

They wield their hands with acids
Branding themselves with naked bullets
Their eyes grew devilish
Under the smoke of the room

Their target they say
Is the plants scattered over the land
Whom they forcefully want to
Uproot out of hatred

Their cause they falsely framed
They are a movement without aim
Just in merriment
With the sacrifice of blood
Hung on their desecrated altar

They make explosives
Their flesh they feed on
Tearing each target in pieces
And singing hymns of praise
For each booty in a strange language

The victims on their altar
Cry out in pain and agony
My Lord!
Deliver us from their hands


About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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