By Lengs

I was not long gone,

but when I visited my country, 

strange wind bade me welcome. 


The fountain no longer held water. 

The walls crumbled; even the earth beneath me quaked. 


Oh! not my country. 

We left a tongue but now splits 

Our once entity now in pieces. 

We left one voice but now speaks gibberish. 


Oh! not my country. 

Skeletons sat by the well. 

Despite water, anguish called their names. Just few giant beast with pot-bellies still walking tall. 


Oh! not my country. 

Streams flooded with blood, 

result of violent discontent and oppression. 


Oh!not my country. 

Dark cloud sent birds to exile, 

even fish died. 


Our once beautiful vegetation withered away. 

Now, just a broom is left to sweep the land. 


I shall tell my father, my country did not recognise me, nor I, the country.

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