This Sonnet Is An Antonym Of Joy Poem by Success Akpojotor

This sonnet is an antonym of joy:
Some fiery ball kicked by Boko Haram
Turned a fine north into a funny farm
Of disemboweled human bones like toys.
Bereaved ones dressed in black and masked in coy
Scooped home relics smeared with black blood like jam.
See the stench ooze of a body unbalm'
As cyclists murmured and shouted ahoy!
Why not come to the table with a face?
Semtex and uranium can't be your mouth.
Provoke the world only with words, not bombs.
You not agreeing with the standing mace
Is not enough to create a war bout
And the battered souls that will weep from tombs.