Last night on combat patrol my crew were listening to news from Turnur. Overhearing, the muse moved me to write.
For many generations we have reigned
Following wind and rain and ancient ways
Wandering a starlit desert plain
We hear your warnings, but we choose to stay
Your industry has brought us naught but sin
We will not trust your craven ways again
The wise give absolution for our kin
While your wheel turns on foolishness of men.
If we prove wrong, what then? A solar flash,
A painless end, on sands we call our home.
If our gods and heroes burn to ash,
This fate of ours will shortly be your own.
This land we love, not black and airless skies.
Time’s sands doom every empire to die.
Thank you for reading. I applaud Chairman Saraki’s decision to send aid and offer condolences for all those who have lost someone in the Turnur tragedy.