By O.P.C   

The symphonic drumbeats of the Ocean’s interminable fury,
Stamping the inevitable apocalypse of the patriot-pirates who swindle
The golden wealth walled within our whistling waters,
Never begin with piercing torrents
Thumping pulsing eardrums
And rolling in roaring waves to their colourful carnage,
They begin with one simple crack to the giant stockades
Of arrogant sea-walls sprawled in gigantic splendour,
On the thoroughfares of the aroused night,
Upsetting the ritual of the hundred-thousand
Shored citizens who sleep on in their watery slumbers

The jingling bells heralding doomsday’s enthralling Orchestra,
For the truth-merchants who peddle decorated fabrications with reckless
Abandon along the boulevards of the people’s smiling misery,
Occupying spotless citadels perched on lofty heights,
While we their innocent shoppers abide in forgotten alleys,
Are never gonging clangs on iron surfaces marked ‘plea bargaining’,
They always arrive
Without the deafening thunder of Thor’s untiring Hammer,
In the petulant sounds of raped innocence,
In noiseless beats of sobbing justice,
In voiceless vocals of imprisoned law,
In the raging calm of the daily provoked,
Ringing in silent rhythmic ding-dongs,
Clanging like dummy balls of ping-pongs.

The nemesis of the tireless Treasury tappers,
Who empty the coffers of our flattened treasures inside out,
Who devotedly drain the wetlands of maltreated motherland,
Altering our adorable territory from an Ocean welcoming
Singing Rivers flowing in from different sources,
Into a scorching hotbed of amalgamated anger and clannish hatred,
Will surely come on a full moon in the knocking nights,
Retribution will be exquisitely served to them in three royal-courses-
Shame shall be first served-that spiceless appetizer!
With Contempt its accompaniment-that tasteless wine!
Conviction shall be the main Course- that dish delicious only to onlookers!
They shall have for dessert, Regret-that medicine that always arrives too late!
For Retribution is not a beautiful fairytale told to put breast-fed babies to sleep,
It’s a scary nightmare that summons aged adults to witlessly wet the night.

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This poem is my response to the endless rape of conscientious leadership on the African continent as corruption continues unabated on several fronts.It is my answer to those who believe they are beyond reproach and loot national treasuries endlessly without being bothered at all.