'The Infant's Wail' Poem by Princewill Umunnakwe

Woe to you son of man!
Thine eyes see no more
Thou mocked by bats
Accursed generation!
Where art thine visual prowess?

I implore you, go therefore to the beasts
And inquire of its seers the futures call!
Great man the fallen!
Do you not see the turmoils to come?

Oh nature forgive!
Bereft of thy hearing too?
Bequeath then your complex ears
Bestow it onto thine gods!
That they might hear my laments!

The future cries out to be saved
The fourth dimension suffers want
The pathways are in tumult
Listen and know the infant's wail!

Invest I say! Invest I cry!
Build for the storm is come!
The future cries out to be saved
Listen, look and know the infant's wail!