Written by: Ivan Cole

 Sparkling with precious stones,
 Credited for its aboriginal tone
 Carpeted with flat grassland and lion-like mountains
 Is the land where the vulture reigns.
 Celebrated for his greed,
 He deprieved all his relations of their needs.
 He dances to the rhythmic melody of bribery
 And lend the land to ultimate misery.
 With his delusion shrouded in cosmetic words
 He appoints humiliation and frustration to be his lords.
 Relatives fortunate to labour in Winter and Summer
 Strives to oblige helping hands to the beggar
 But to no avail.
 As vandalism fueled with violence prevails.
 This evident atmosphere of injustice,
 Nursed an intense spirit of malice
 Which when at its peak
 Permits commotion to speak.
 The pack up! Pack up! sound of the gun
 Hints that another catastrophe has begun.
 Villages were ravaged.
 In every town there is carnage.
"Oh, my people are being taken to the cross
 I will uproot my lords with a force," 
Flattered the psychopath
 As he plans another of his unbearable wrath.
 Yet he has "Pledge" his "Love and Loyalty"
 To bring to our land, "Peace, Freedom and Prosperity."
 I dont have to fight to eradicate this anguish plight,
 With the pen's might I will amplify his callous deeds in broad daylight