From here where flattery stole the soul of the soil,

And faith baptized delinquency,

Everything has been ' smallnized'

Deluded glory has plundered the womb of the land,

Commonizing the wealth into the pools of the predator,

Bequeathing the disinherited with pronounceable names ,

So the vicar and the crown have an easier manner to bless,

Landmass past thirty billion and counting,

Rush spaces to grow health and peace,

Underground troves of glory gold and all the in between,

Yet, the cuckoo eggs continue to hatch,

Kicking out the nest owners,

To feed off the warm sweat of mother bird,

As the ground sprouts fresh mounds of her own fresh,

In the year of our Lord when language barriers have fallen off grid,

Africa still cries in savage tongues of eloquent agony,

As poets speak ' WORLDESE' to a deaf mission impossible by design.

Blocked in a blockade within a lockdown that brews dust like confetti.

Such a tragic tale of skin hues that flatter the sun and scare the brethrens ,

enough to scheme a whole continents fate into perpetual mourners.

This case cannot rest, must not rest....

But who can vouch for it when the voting is rigged before the voting day?