Bullets for Sale

For every coin I pick
In this forest called Sambisa
First, I will buy water
Because hell is next door
And living has become an art.
The next note I pick
Definitely won’t make me a chorister
Because singing here on any note
Will ginger war mongers
To greater heights.
Even if I have money
And bullets are for sale
I will rather buy the bomb
And blow away the hearts of the wicked
Wherever they are
Scatter their ashes in the ocean
Washed away forever
And floating peace anew,from people to people.
There’s no need to buy bullets
Death lives next door.

Bose.