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Cold Blood: A Poem in Memory of a Life Taken

In cold blood, he was pierced beneath the shroud of midnight. He screamed, yet the night swallowed his voice as life slipped away. The moon bore witness, but no one looked up to see. A warning came in a dream, yet no one stirred to act. He was ambushed in the sanctuary of his home and dragged away by masked men. They left grief among family and friends, ending a life over a matter that did not merit even the blood of a hen. This poem mourns Iyobu Augustus Nemieboka, murdered on the night of July 31, 25 years ago.

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J
julia

The dream warning is striking; do you see it as fate, guilt, or a call ignored?

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G
grace

I agree, though I lean toward it being an unresolved inner warning rather than something fixed by destiny.

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H
hala

The contrast between the scream and the silent night gives the loss a heavy, abandoned feeling.

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B
bisi

The imagery is powerful, though the repeated absence of witnesses may feel more effective with one sharper concrete detail.

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Y
yemi

Consider breaking the longest lines into shorter pauses to let the midnight, scream, and sanctuary images land separately.

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