My dear, how you’ve fallen from grace, after the efforts of so many,
To heal your soul and cover the bruises upon your face, 
Attained from the path driven by greed, travelled for money,
My dear, Mother, Sister, Daughter and Son, I’m sorry, that Sun has set
On our land, the epitome of the sunny side of life.
My dear, Wife, can’t you see what’s in your eyes? Despair.
Despair in a countries eyes, fed up with the deception and the lies,
A crow sits on a makeshift throne, democracy jeopardized,
A true leader over thrown, but for soon, tomorrow, he shall rise,
See, true democracy never dies.
Though the fate of despots and dictators, share a more likely fate,
As the crow, rots and shatters in a weakly deteriorating state,
Meek to its core, lacking a spine, but claws out of desperation,
Seeks to implore the help of those indebted in further corruption,
But such efforts are useless, as such people are corrosive,
Driven by their own agendas their own motives,
So my dear, shout, make a stand, what’s the point in having lungs,
If you use them just to breathe, as they shoot you down with their guns,

Sangu

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