HARDSHIP -Oluwatunmise

The land is bad,
Nothing seems working,
Wisdom is lacking,
To put everything back running.

Hardship is well written on the soil,
And leaves everyone to toil,
Poverty has mixed with the air,
Everyone breathes it in.
The soil decides to be barren,
Because it has not been accorded its dues.
Woes to the Hitlers and pharaohs of the land,
The soil is weeping,
You have given it poison,
You feed it with innocent souls,
Killed by hunger,
Decimated by intimidation and injustice.

You tear the face of the earth up without fear,
To feed it with deadly poisons-dead innocent bodies,
You called them 'food for the soil',
But it's not hungry,
It calls it poison,
Because it's not yet their time to die,
So not the earth's time to swallow.

Children are clothed in rags,
Men die at the war-front daily,
War of famine and drought,
War of anguish, pain and anxiety,
War of inabilities to cater for their families,
Thereby leaving women as widows,
Faced with the burden of raising innocent kids.
Four eyes becomes two,
Hunger is multiplied,
Children are under-fed,
Kwashiokor takes over,
Indeed the land is sick.

Angels of the land are sad,
It's not the land they used to know,
Trees are dry,
And their leaves; forced to wear another clothe-color.
The sky has refused to cry,
It has refused to shed it's seasonal tears-rain,
The sun refuses to stop smiling harshly and aggressively on the land,
The moon has lost it's brightness,
The stars refuse to shine,
Rivers once deep are shallow,
The fishes are brooding,
The water stinks,
And the river looses its flowing voice,
Everywhere is silent,
Most houses are deserted,
People left in search of a greener pasture,
Looking for their Jerusalem.

Dogs are no longer faithful,
Ran into the bush for survival,
Because humans can no longer afford to feed it.
The mountains are silent,
No strength in people,
To climb it for for prayers.

The voice of the people is gone,
Mostly tamed by hardship caused by the few people,
At the elms and affairs of the distribution of the milk and honey the land produces.

Insurgents has taken over,
Protesting what's meant for them,
Their milk and honey,
Stolen by the numbered few.
Who will appease the land before it is too late?
Who will help to take away this poverty,
To restore peace and tranquility to the land,
Bestow happiness on her people,
And delete all the Hitlers and pharaohs of the land,
For God's sake who!

Who will make the sleeping giant in us rise again,
Give us the needed hope,
To leave our pasts with the Hitlers and pharaohs,
And connect us with the present to the messiah,
Who could help to shape and lead us to the promising future we all crave for.
Who will end this HARDSHIP?
Who!!!


written by: Apesinola (FLO)