Cry of the Land
by Ebhohon Majekodunmi Oseriemen Where is the sun?It rose yesterday, but today it hides.The earth drinks blood, not rain,And the wind carries whispers of names long forgotten. The drums are silent—Not for lack of hands,But because the hands that beat themNow clutch their own throats in fear. O elders, do you not hear?The rivers are swollen, not with floods,But…
