Black Sun Poem by Friday Dejavu

Why do we pray?
in darkest ray,
we grope in the tombs,
fruits from our thumbs.

Who appointed this blind follow?
our souls weary below.
buy me time,
war is never mine.

He wakes up daily confuse,
his foolishness who cannot refuse.
bring back my nation
fool me no more with corruption.

Children blood flood the street,
corpses stinks i daily breath,
this heathen is dead,
his biography i now read.

Here lies a man
who fools makes demand
yet a corpse he was on the throne
Give me my sun, bring back the one.

Hunger for the masses
assets all in messes
leave a message on the run
am searching for our black sun.