A Gathering Storm. Poem by Tony Adah

There's a gathering storm
In the sky brown and black
Smothering clouds dark and deadly
Are descending,
Those with legs are running
The lame looking at the sky
Away the deaf follow the legged
And the blind grope with the lame.

The leaves stained with blood
Like the morning dews
Boko Haram is abated
It is our turn to die
On the edges of the herdsmen's swords
Right at our doorsteps
No place to hide
Away from the gathering storm
Flying with flames.