Crab for  Christmas ...

 

No doubt people risk their lives to catching  us shellfishes.

For such reckless selfish,

We are the source of  cash,

While others sit at the table enjoying tearing our flesh.

 

But all that is a thing of the past.

We undertook chemical bodily change, that we must.

Man shall never again put us on a plate as his repast.

 

We abandoned the salty water,

And chose to settle,

On the sides of mountains and hills,

Little did we know, little...

Once a year a pilgrim

To our foregone home,

Could lead to such a bloody battle.

 

In tens of millions we descend Mt. Cradle

The sight is as always spectacular,

An  incredible thing to believe.

 

We move in one direction

With a compelling mission.

 

Try they might   wipe us out from the hills,

Men but  soon realise they  lack the stamina and the Will.

For our secret strength is number,

They can't possibly conquer.

 

Crash us under the heels,

Run us over with monstrous wheels,

We survive despite the rule of  thumb.

That man alone has the right to live.

There is no doubt,

We are bright red shells,

Made of steel.

 

We go down fighting resolutely to the last ditch

To ensure eggs are laid and  young ones hatched.

 

Granted,  when deployed  they are deadly accurate.

However, we have  such ammunition only a few left.

While some of our implacable adversaries.

Are still at large determined to turn our backs to heaps of  debris.

 

More worryingly,  the unborn are preyed upon

By water-born monsters with elongated jawbones.

 

Then when we return back completing mission

We are as ever subjected to the same crashing machines.

 

Despite it all, many reach Mt. Cradle

And prepare themselves for the next battle.

We shall see who in the end will prevail!

Man or nature,  in setting the global rule?

 

Copyright Haileselassie Girmay

25/9/2004