As I walk this graveyard somber
Of a country that lost its life
Its gravestone reads, in the distance yonder
Stabbed by debt's dagger knife
Our Founding Fathers, like demigods
Of a past enlightened age
Birthed this nation, with musket rods
And writings on a page
We the people, it was writ
Must perfect a union young
With stinging wit, this daring script
Was a rock at Britain slung
A golden republic, been thrown at our feet
They challenged us to keep
From democracy's thieves, from subtle deceit
From apathy, and ignorant sleep
Have we kept our gold? No! It was packaged and sold!
By politicians - absentee dads!
How would our Fathers feel, if they could be told
That their children lost what they had?
Our Fathers would be, trifle a doubt
A hallowed kin troubled by din
Troubled by noise, the screams and the shouts
Of a country dying from within
With ethics abandoned, a sickness has crept
A plundering, gluttonous sin
These pitiful states, with mountains of debt
Belong in no handbook of hymn
Youth, why slave for a wage
To be took by taxation's rake?
Why seek to be caught, in misery's cage
For worthless currency's sake?
Prepare instead, for the coming collapse
When Liberty staggers, stumbles and hurls
This nation, bit by a venomous asp
Expires, in agony curls
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem