Where is God,
In the deep abysses of the soul
Or in the glowing
Enlightenment of the mind?
Is He found, in the emotional
smile of the heart?

Where is God?
Is He in the morning breeze
that blows as if
to chill the soul?
Or can He be found
in the rays of the sun
so fierce and bold
like the sword
of a fearless warrior
through a succulent rock?

Where is God?
Is He in the morning song
that comes in resonance
with the drumbeat of the heart?
Can He be found
in the feebleness of a sick bed?
Or in the silent face
of the dead?
Bold as cast iron,
only stained with a grin.

Where is God?
Is he in the frantic---
Frenzy face of a village priest?
Breathing fire and brimstone
Like the furnaces of hell?

Where is God?
Is He in the fatlings
of a rich table?
And a treasure chest
Filled with blood?

Where is God?
Can He be found
in the simple-docile-smile
of the child next door?
The epitome
of a wretched world.

Where is God?
Is He found
in our guilty conscience
that died
spoiling His world?

Why can’t I see Him?
Why can’t I find Him?
How much do I have
To stretch and scratch
Just to know
Maybe, for once;
That I’ve done the right thing,
and not failed?

Where is God?

Here they come
On their high horses
And white regalia
With the pretense to mourn
Long after we cried and wailed
For the blood that has stained our land
Long after we cried and wailed
For the blood that has stained our land
Drawn by the sword of their brethren
From the veins of our brethren

How deceptive...how audacious?
Their mockery of our pain
They never felt it
They only felt threatened
Because others came to give us succour
They didn’t come with balm for the wounded
And no bandages for the bleeding
They only came to see
How deep the wounds are?Are they deeper than the valley they seek to possess?

How deceptive...how audacious?
Their disdain of our sincere tears
They came with no tears
To shed for the buried dead
Neither did they come with handkerchief
To wipe away our tears
They came to see
If the graves are as they expected
And if not...how well to inflict more wounds
Even as we mourn
They are killing more

How deceptive...how audacious?
Their mockery of our sensitivity
Instead of sending the lion to roar
And chase the wolf away
They sent the cat to run
To where? I don’t know
The cat is been running
Yet the wolf is stilling killing
And the head of the pack
Is coming to see
How red the River Benue is

Edumoga is crying
Guma and Logo is still bleeding
Makurdi has not been spared from the flames
Nigeria is being deprived of herchildren daily
From Maiduguri to Adamawa
From Zamfara to Yobe
From Ekiti to Ogun
The Land is full of graves
From Southern Kaduna to Taraba
From Enugu to Delta
From Nasarawa to Benue
The land is bleeding red
And the stench of death is no longer offensive to perceive

When will this end?
When has the maiming of children?
And slaughtering of the pregnant
Become a culture of pride?
When has it become our culture?To protect the murderer
And accuse the victim?
The eyes that pretends not to see
When the vultures are plucking out its neighbours eyes
Should not forget that when they are done
They will come for his own.

Now what can I do?
I bear no guns
I carry no swords
But I still have my words
I will not cry only with my eyes
But I will cry with my pen
Until I **** this fear
This fear that wants to make me a slave
Until the peace be restored
Through the tears of a pen bearer.

It Pains the Body and Soul It Wounds the Heart.
It Kills our Joy and Murders our Happiness.
It Showers sadness on us when it Rains.
It Shines sorrow on us when it Appears
Though we can't foretell its coming.
Though we don't see it.
It Happens when we least expected!
It Happens to the Ones we love so dear.
But, can't we stop it?!
I mean can't we Fight it?

Oh! Sorry, for it is inevitable. Sorry, we can't Fight it.  
Yes! The Reaper that Reaps All Whether Ripe or Not.
Whether Bad or Good.
Oh! Death! You are a Wicked Master.
How I Wish You never Existed, For I Know I'll meet You some day.
For Every man is Destined to meet You at a Point.
You at a Point.

Many met You at the Wrong time.
many at the Right time.
I Pray I meet you in Good time, But if I can see You, If I can hold and touch You, I'll fight You to the last drop of my BLOOD!  

Oh! Reaper that Reaps All Though it's appointed that Everyman should bow to You, Know this!
That you are not the Ultimate, For beyond You lies a Place where your Presence is terminated.
Where you shall shower no more Your Sadness.Where You shall shine no more Your Sorrow. Eternity you lead to!
A Door You are.
Making You a Slave and not a Master Oh!
The Sorrows of Many at Your Sting.
And the Joy of Multitude at Your Sting.
Sting On! Sting On! Sting On! But Remember!
As You Sting, You shall be judged.