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The blood of the forty, the souls of twenty
The height of silence
The state of our nation
I need not mention
The too many spoils
Planted on our soil
The death of the forty
Fury of the blood thirsty
With a heart so love empty
And hands soak with blood too dirty
And our leaders careless
I too think this is madness
The inner heart of the bereaved
How could they have believed?
That yesterday will kill their beloved
The lives of the twenty girls
Awaits the verdict of their evil guts
Though they are not God
And what of the lips of a nation that seemed so pursed
And I do not know why us
We are a people in pain
Under their red rain
Do we just seat and watch them reign?
Salamatu Sule
