Yi Feng Xin
Yi feng xìn
Dear Motherland,
hope meagre moments yet dance
throwing taunted thrills
to the fostering figs?
Dear Motherland,
do the sassy streams with flaps
on diminuendo and crescendos' rhythm
yet maintain the lusty lyric?
Dear Motherland,
does frolic Kanji dam
basked in mushy currents
wins the mercies of fame yet?
Say nought, dear Motherland,
moments are now cleavages of trance
dark dribbles suck their nectar
puking punctured alakazam
Don't freak out, dear Motherland,
technology's tongue poked had
made callous confetti
of salient streams and their rhythms
Be not so ashamed, dear Motherland,
I heard the nauseating tale of our dam:
he's aged, broken limbs with no staff,
and smothered wits balming his laps.
'20:04:26:18:40
Note: Of moaning motherland (Nigeria).
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