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Like hungry lions, they march through the streets, with the mission to kill, with the order to destroy. With chains of bullets they pit the walls of houses, shoot moving objects at sights, paint the city with blood of the innocents. They are the two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to hunt, instructed to kill. With the voice of little Hitler whose order said "hunt them down" echoing in their brains, they raid homes, slaughter men, murder women, make children orphans. They are the two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! The sounds of gunfire turned to music of the dead in the ears of children, bullets fly like wild birds around them. Fear became their daily bread. The two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! Mom, when will we go home, Dad, when will those men leave our homes? Little ones asked the survivors whose houses became hell and the bushes became the only heavenly refuge. The two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! Tied up like lions heading to the slaughter house, they bundle men into trucks, blindfold and force them to lie on the floor. Women were not spared, children were left at the mercy of death with an imposed curfew meant to starve them to death. Little Hitler did this! Birds of the sky refuse to sing as synagogues go up in flames even as houses burn fiercer than a blacksmith's furnace. "Ghost town" became the name of the city, spirits occupy the streets observing the corpses of the youths that lie next to the bush. Little Hitler did this! Men drown in pain as tears fall down the faces of women whose relatives and loved ones are abducted and others shot to death. "Mom, where is Dad, when will he return?" The little ones asked when they lost sight of their father. Little Hitler did this! Hopes of survival are darkened for the living, fear growing worse as little Hitler's armies march through the night like ghosts of ancient Babylon. The dead are still dead, the missing are still missing but the little Hitler sees nothing wrong in his deed, he reiterates that he does have no regrets about it. He is the little Hitler! Written by Maxwell Chuks For Family Writers Press International
Nigeria: Little Hitler And The Two Hundred Soldiers Deployed To Kill
Nigeria: Little Hitler And The Two Hundred Soldiers Deployed To Kill Like hungry lions, they march through the streets, with the mission to kill, with the order to destroy. With chains of bullets they pit the walls of houses, shoot moving objects at sights, paint the city with blood of the innocents. They are the two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to hunt, instructed to kill. With the voice of little Hitler whose order said "hunt them down" echoing in their brains, they raid homes, slaughter men, murder women, make children orphans. They are the two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! The sounds of gunfire turned to music of the dead in the ears of children, bullets fly like wild birds around them. Fear became their daily bread. The two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! Mom, when will we go home, Dad, when will those men leave our homes? Little ones asked the survivors whose houses became hell and the bushes became the only heavenly refuge. The two hundred (200) soldiers deployed to kill! Tied up like lions heading to the slaughter house, they bundle men into trucks, blindfold and force them to lie on the floor. Women were not spared, children were left at the mercy of death with an imposed curfew meant to starve them to death. Little Hitler did this! Birds of the sky refuse to sing as synagogues go up in flames even as houses burn fiercer than a blacksmith's furnace. "Ghost town" became the name of the city, spirits occupy the streets observing the corpses of the youths that lie next to the bush. Little Hitler did this! Men drown in pain as tears fall down the faces of women whose relatives and loved ones are abducted and others shot to death. "Mom, where is Dad, when will he return?" The little ones asked when they lost sight of their father. Little Hitler did this! Hopes of survival are darkened for the living, fear growing worse as little Hitler's armies march through the night like ghosts of ancient Babylon. The dead are still dead, the missing are still missing but the little Hitler sees nothing wrong in his deed, he reiterates that he does have no regrets about it. He is the little Hitler! Written by Maxwell Chuks For Family Writers Press International

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