THE OUTCRY ECHOES By IMMANUELA PRECIOUS
Grains withered, When 'twas winter, Field in an ugly pasture, Stood in a stale posture, People were struck with mighty power, That could sink a tower, Hearts full of weeping blood, And makes the abode looks blurred, Impatient trampled them down, And tattered their faulty gown, They roar to the priest like a bear, And lamented unto him as a beer, Their outcry echoes annihilated the temple, And makes the cathedral trembled, Eagerness trapped those who anxiety pierced, And got them into a flame of fierce.