POEM : THE BLOOD OF THE UNARMED FREEDOM FIGHTERS AND THE WEAPONS OF INJUSTICE
By Maxwell Chuks
For Family Writers
In the struggle for justice;
they took to the streets.
In the quest to restore their home, they raise the flag.
The flag of freedom, justice and the people.
Peacefully, they march forward unarmed.
With songs, they sing, roar and cry with pains seeking for justice and their freedom.
With the weapons of injustice,
they're shot down by the agents of injustice, soldiers of black evil and the servants of slavery led by the murderers of justice and freedom.
Same people who murdered their parents.
In the ocean of blood;
they still cry, shout for justice and freedom.
Their bodies soaked with blood, they still roar like lions with the flag raised even in pains.
On the intake of their last breath; they say to their brothers: "If I go down, pick up the flag, don't let it go down,
Don't let it end here,
Make sure justice and the freedom of our people are restored".
Words of heroes.
"Biafra or Death"
That's the voice that echoes in the determined mind of those who picked up the flag,
"Freedom or Death"
That's the word that rolls on their lips every day.
Yet, same people who murdered their parents still bath them in the ocean of blood with the black weapons of injustice.
On the earth, their blood roars
And their people cry for justice.
With determination, they still fight justly with the flag raised above all.
Ready for the known, prepared for the unknown and to defend their truth and their freedom.
Due to greediness and fear of the murderers of freedom;
Silence is of some priests, fear is of some leaders while the world still swallows the truth thereby painting it as if justice and freedom is on exile.
With weapons of injustice used against them;
Their blood still flows and the people cry in pains.
Yet, their demand for justice and freedom still lives and stands strong everyday.
By Maxwell Chuks
For Family Writers
In the struggle for justice;
they took to the streets.
In the quest to restore their home, they raise the flag.
The flag of freedom, justice and the people.
Peacefully, they march forward unarmed.
With songs, they sing, roar and cry with pains seeking for justice and their freedom.
With the weapons of injustice,
they're shot down by the agents of injustice, soldiers of black evil and the servants of slavery led by the murderers of justice and freedom.
Same people who murdered their parents.
In the ocean of blood;
they still cry, shout for justice and freedom.
Their bodies soaked with blood, they still roar like lions with the flag raised even in pains.
On the intake of their last breath; they say to their brothers: "If I go down, pick up the flag, don't let it go down,
Don't let it end here,
Make sure justice and the freedom of our people are restored".
Words of heroes.
"Biafra or Death"
That's the voice that echoes in the determined mind of those who picked up the flag,
"Freedom or Death"
That's the word that rolls on their lips every day.
Yet, same people who murdered their parents still bath them in the ocean of blood with the black weapons of injustice.
On the earth, their blood roars
And their people cry for justice.
With determination, they still fight justly with the flag raised above all.
Ready for the known, prepared for the unknown and to defend their truth and their freedom.
Due to greediness and fear of the murderers of freedom;
Silence is of some priests, fear is of some leaders while the world still swallows the truth thereby painting it as if justice and freedom is on exile.
With weapons of injustice used against them;
Their blood still flows and the people cry in pains.
Yet, their demand for justice and freedom still lives and stands strong everyday.
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