The Scattered Home
){kind=link}
The endless season is now old,
The memorable season of harvest,
Harvest of labor,
Broken fingers, injured hands
Bruised heels, buried bones
Torn backs and tired legs.
The vulture is big-heated,
He's back with his army
To take from the beggars as usual,
They rushed in hunger,
Reaping like hungry lions.
The vulture fouls the air,
messes eventually everywhere he sets his foot,
Rapes the innocent,
Her peace, harvest and pride,
In silence, Nigeria moans.
Compelled into slavery by the bloated vultures,
May your sorrowful tears flow down,
For the sake of these wicked creatures.
Nice lines
Much thanks