AFRICAN HURRICANE

Slowly it came From the Atlantic, Like a rush of mighty wind: Hurried; struck; stole away, Tearing streets apart, Filling the air with dust, Sacking the mud mansions, Impeaching roofs of houses, Denting roads with filth, and Later to its cleansing. The pregnant clouds With arrogance came, With threats to nature: Rude; clumsy; unruly. These, it aptly reflects, And steadily downpours. Organized commotion sets in As men run to and fro, Aimlessly they dance to The disjointed rhythm of thunder. The blinding incessant flashes, Snapping unprintable photographs; Logical rolls of thunder, Musical notes of its rumbles; Magical firmaments pictured; Celestial inscriptions and wonders— Are aesthetic splendor of nature! The vegetations in hope rejoice. Thirst of hinterlands, quenched. Brooks and oases gain strength. Gutters filled to the brim To wash away the stinks and dirt, Thus restore sanitary to one area And epidemics to another. Just like a sword, The good, the bad, and the ugly Are the output of this wonder, Which many nations in awe desire. Who'll pay for this havoc injected, Or accused for its fury? It's a disaster-driven esoteric tale, Like the parliament of idiots: Where seven is more than thirty, Just for greed, theft, and deceit. What a pleasurable destruction This man, corruption, has sown! Oh dear African hurricane, Please do go far away. Come on yet another day— Innocent kids plead today.