RIPPLES OF OUR DEEDS
By Sunday Afolayan They were just shivering Lonely and hopeless Crying for help Longing for succour Chirping, zithering Thirsty and hungry Writhing in pains Waiting in sorrow For mother to come But the motherbird Was nowhere in sight Because she's been killed By a ruthless hunter In the ruddest of game. The ten little chicks Were battling with cold Right there in their nest A snake climbed up the tree Feasted on five Out of the ten For lack of protection. In the dead of the night A storm then gathered With whirlwind and lightening The downpour that followed Unleashed its terror And the five remaining chicks Were killed in the tempest. The lesson is this: It is cruel and evil To harm or kill For every evil deed A man metes onto others Will bring ripples aftermath Not only on the victim But also those that depend On the victim of the evil. The ruthless hunter That killed the motherbird Is simply the architect Of the gruesome death Of her ten...