In the eyes of the storm

The tempest is at her best:

The ocean is swindling,

The mighty hands of the tide cannot concur,

His fury eyes’ scoops to conquer.

The rod of the gods upon mankind:

Succour is ex-communicado

The river basin has no basin,

Ants cannot shade themselves.

What can the Earth do?

Her tears continue to flow,

The river of uncertainty continues to overflow.

Can the millennium tide tidy the drowning giant?

‘Shambles’ read the slogan,

Democracy is delusion.

The seed of anarchy has gained momentum,

Prejudice has no equivalent.

The storm is quaffing a lot of man’s hope

And piling together the decays of our globe,

The eyes of the storm refuse to slag.

The rich encompass more wealth,

Even the Charlie ones’ seems like gods.

The poor cast to abject poverty,

Solidarity does not entice fate.

Sounding voices attract dust,

Moral decadence is whooping with

A thousand and one laughing tongues.

Honesty is healthily in limbo,

His sonorous voice is mute.

Blood baths ceaseth not,

Is Africa bewitched?

Passion glows like the mighty sun,

The golden rule has opted out.

The leonine beards of the democracy

Is breeding and breeding tears,

Lest the storm is storming.