The earth must be reminded of its mission
This earth was not built on tears,
its steely heart is edged by endless oceans,rivers to grace it’s inheritance of beauty.
Now,we boast only of dry land,dryrots and other garments of dry dreams
and dubious dry- cleaners now supervise our fearsome dreams!
These cultureless climes hold no virtue for woe- worlded widows
gripped by iron- toothed tractors of oceanic tears
in a million huts without leafy roofs,
clay pots without a promising visit by welcoming fire.
These climes derobe virgins of virtue,
wasting their dreams on horrid platter of raging lust,
propelled not by the Akaraoguns and Kokos
but brutal hunters with iron manhoods if agony_
their untouched thighs must pay every bill
demanded by prison- holes if potent poverty!
Minds must be lost here_
our forest guards greedily guide bandits
through famished,lonely roads on lonely days;
elders are lonely too
as kids have swam to unknown regions for dreamt miracles;
homes still shed tears in villages unkept
and radiant rodents are next of kin
on lonely days in long abandoned tents.
Your rare library shall remain a home,haven
to curious knowledge- seekers insisting on a world map drawn from your dawn.
