Our uncompleted Walls

With his hands tied behind his back
With ropes of twine from the office of the legislatives
and his lips sealed with black paper tape of the judiciaries
the Fatherland is at the mercy of his Executive-captors.

But with his heart, he calls out to us…. “Patriots!”
And we have risen to serve and to redeem.

But the tool house is starved of tools.
The armoury is starved of arms.
And the book houses are starved of books

We are pouring over with vim-and-vigour and knack;
Seeking to add more bricks on the deserted
walls of our great land.

But the sweat of our heroes past
washes down with the hopes of our youths
and into the waste waters of avaricious chieftains they pour,
as our night rain rancour’s ceaselessly.

And it seems we can only cry…”Oh, God of creation.”