Hillock Beings Poem by Chibueze Oscar Osuji

Far-off across the coppice and the yew
Across the sepulchre sand, lies the hill
In the dark lunar night it glow and thrill,
By daylight it left sullen skull for view;
The e'er-presence of the hill was a-skew:
In the village, mapping out with death chill
Whilst the landers sleep to await its kill,
And newest victim to rain down as dew.

Listen! closely and hear the hill echo
Fetching sounds made inside the steep hillock;
On hollow terrain the voices scal'd thro'
Hov'ring over and over with death row:
When 'tis late and the night chime the sand-clock,
The villagers scurry home-ward they go.

At night the hillock voices could be heard:
Roar as felines, as canines they did howl,
Through the empty land left for birds as owl
To hover the hill as an evil bird;
Haunting sounds of the hill came by absurd,
From their bedding place the villagers scowl
About; at the hill presence stealth and prowl;
Grips its first victim, the second then third.

Little Ann wakes in the mid' of the night
Push'd past her mother's sleeping frightful frame,
To-night: A night she long'd for in delight,
She unlock the hut's door with all her might;
To the nude night the hill beckon her name,
In her joyous trance she heed the hill's plight.

Unknowingly, could little Ann be lost?
Out of her mother's good she went plunder;
Her mother cried out and search and ponder,
Little Ann could pay a sickly death cost
For her canal love for the hill she'd lust;
Far to the woods pass'd the rain and thunder
And canopy-leaves she burrow under;
She must reach her longing hill, yes she must.

She could see it glow: A prodigal child,
She danced round the foot of the hill op'ning,
Alas! She found it welcoming and mild,
But cold fear gripp'd her she saw beings so wild;
Poor Ann! poor! run 'fore you do the dying,
She did whisper to herself to abide.

Late it was! she was amidst to the beings,
Scary beings walking on heads with keen claws
Scary beings talking 'bout death with keen jaws
Scary beings to Ann saying scary things;
''Young girl meet your doom'' was their cold sayings;
Hence they unleash'd their serrated huge saws;
Hence they roar'd and bark'd, some chirps and some caws;
Some of the hillock beings tall, some halflings.

Then the hill was silent again for dawn,
The sun had risen on eastern pole rod;
Now all of the villagers stretch and yawn,
Little Ann's mother feign and stay un-brawn;
Up the hill dead Ann's skull roll'd down in blood.