Fighting An Earthquake

Fluent as a rill, that wanders silver-footed down a hill, Their manifestos raised our burried hopes from sepulchres, Glittering like an aigrette of stars, We believed they were refined gold. Indeed, they deserve our patriotism and mandate, Wholeheartedly, we gave them, While hoping to enjoy the dividends of democracy. Surprisingly, it came and faded like a wreath of mist at eve, Suffering and smiling like well fed slaves, But our cheeks are furrowed and writhen like rain-washed crags, Our tear drops like water from an abandoned statue, We have been neglected and underdeveloped, It stung like a frozen lash. The past is dotted with poverty, blood, sweat and pain, The future is blurry and uncertain, Like a mirage, vague, dimly seen at first, Yet, we are still fighting and dying, To eradicate corruption, nepotism, favouritism and sectionalism from our society, But it's as futile as to oppose an earthquake with argument.