Bruised,
Battered,
Injured,
Bloodied.
Our land is riddled
Our garments are perforated
Its not strangers
That caused us this pain
We would have fought back
Its not invisible beings
That carted away our commonwealth
We would've consulted the celestial
Its my brothers and sisters
Masquerading as our defenders
They are the vultures
Who colluded with foreign partners
Frittering away our resources
Leaving behind nothing for us
But sorrows, anguish, tears
Behold! our land is castrated
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem