The clouds move
In mournful steps,
I lie face up
Bound with injustice
Like a funeral ram.
My lips move
In vain attempt
To shout my cause.
From the slab,
Funeral songs
Of butchers’ knives
Atop sharpening stones
Assault my eardrums,
Death comes in installments.
My captors
In low voices
Share my organs
To vultures,
My blood to themselves,
Ancestors on exile.
When my voice returns,
I shall sing
My last song.
I shall step with valour
Into Eternity.

By Chidi Anthony Opara
(From author's facebook page)