My Country Is My Sorrow 2

MY COUNTRY IS MY SORROW (with Paciolo Pen Saint) She house lot of birds There resides serpent House of commotion The young shall grow, A thing of the past Even its branches are nipped at bud A trees with a gigantic stem Yet a miniscule fruit Pains flow through it veins Still every year seems promising Fruit feed on by the serpent No hope for human Of what benefit will it be to a man When it hasn't fed its dwellers On its feet lay thousand leaves Probably a thousand and one Serpent curled around the branches Milking it of its limited resources Getting fatter and every opportunity Oh what a misery tale Where I reside My sorrow is my country Abisola (Sky Writes)