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