Dead Country

 Dead eyes, the thousand years stare look at you from you

from those who once had a soul that had died from the barrage of evil and injustice and could not bear to live like others live, and now become living dead awaiting signs of life unaware dead things never re-live again

soulless eyes from the ones nurtured in greed, cunning and self

wanton self supersedes all, everything, everyone is an object used and discarded in wanton fulfilment of self

these are the young ones bred to run this dead country, bred to ruin this dead country

Dead leaders locked in the endless quest of debauchery

diseased and weakened by wealth and its ills, they claw onto power

dead brains, dead thoughts, dead acts, walking corpses masters of the  beating the tribal drums, masters of divisions and hate, slaves to self

In this dead country nothing works, 

the mortuary attendant of Maitama General Hospital is a lord,

who decides what corpse stays and which does not

In this dead country, the demons waltz freely, the nurse at the hospital will tell you there is no bed for the dying patient

and smiles as she dies like a dog

In this dying country, they take the picture of a dying woman, who had folded her bagco bag neatly in her purse in the hopes of going to the market that day,

they take the picture and gawk and no one stops to help

in this dead country,  a boy is sentenced to death

and  hawked by his prison guards for the highest bidder

in this dead country, doctors will let you die as long as your account reads red

Lecturers will go on strike for years 

Police will kill you, and when they die, their wives will cry

and beg for their pensions as their children roam the streets

The empaths have become disillusioned and the soulless  reign supreme

Cursed is a country where the wanton reign supreme