Power is that all mortal cling for save,
Knowing not what it meant to in cave,
killing and maiming all to be known,
ignoring infallible truth of Unknown.

What would you profit in wasting the blood of men,
That blood no man can create but Divine,
Power in the room, power on the street, power in church, all desired by men,
Would that you and I to eternal Paradise.

Why are you pity not those children bathing with their tears,
Can't you see those hemorrhage women coughing in fears,
Why can't you drop your weapons and pity for widows
All you power mongers, when would you understand the infinite game of nature.

Agony!, agony! O painful agony to the child bearers,
Power is here before you and here your breath,
Respect the nature that has your flesh,
Love that you created not and leave that you can create.

© Nwankwo Johnson C.