A day it was
the devil came for a feast
with army of demons
swamping with disgust
fortunate I was
to dine in the table
with armies of death
blood for wine
flesh for food
I could feel my heart
racing a thousand miles in a sec
drought in my throat
I could sense the end of me
In a blink of an eye
the feast ended
too late to realise
I was the meal
I was the host
I was robbed of everything dear
Narration
today marks the two years memorial of our fallen comrades, who laid down their lives to protest against injustice in the endsars protest. I wanted to write their story but words could not illustrate their lost. I could not stop thinking about what exactly was their thought at the moment when the bullet rained down on them.
To the fallen 20:10:2020
