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This poem is an imagery of the desolate state of Borno at the moment. The state is the stronghold of the major terrorism sect in Nigeria


We_go_dey_select.._er.._wheneverby Kadiri Tolani27 Mar 2014

At the gates of Borno
where years are counted by charred sands
i found the corpse of that veiled damsel
whose tiny waist dazzled like aba
at the last Durbar

beside her was the royal stallion
whose apparels were flung on political dunes

He fawned her cheeks
like rose dropped on a coffin

her clay jug once
filled with aromatic fragrance
has become the kingdom's tomb

her body had no more fragrance
but the smoky aftermath of machine guns

the palace stood afar
like a prodigal son
and the shadowy sun was
draped by the stallion's festoon

its pale brightness have begun to flicker...

I never knew a stallion could cry
until he reached for his festoon
and lay it on her head...