Song Of Famine Poem

Starvation, famine, death for all.
The prophecy foretold long time ago.
Bear no fruit of hollow labor.
That makes the urban and rural looks varicose.
Ploughing all day nothing to bring homeward.
There is many a brave heart here dying of want and cold.

Ho! Famine ho! Famine
Ye nest on the citadel.
Famine! Ye have soughs up the land.
Men run from right to left in wretch.
Hunger-stricken wobbles the ground.
At the realm of extreme hunger,
Comes the gluttonous feast.

Poor flood up the land doe in nature very rich.
Bemoan of subject leads to pogrom.
Importing and exterior source for long time feeds.
Myopia chieftain order back to farm.

The boarder in blockade, food in need.
Rooting and seeding will take a long to germinate.
Economy at stake, money value decrease.
Ho! When the hunger pangs have started assail.

A loaf is bought at high prices.
Untouchable is of grain,
Death rampage beeping. Looking pale,
And famished as ever. Roaming around,
in the pagan street.
Dirty ragged children scattered on the dusty road, Scrambling for orange peelings,
Powerless and ignorant is our worst distress.
Lonely and bitter the tears shedding.

Dying of want rife up the nation.
Alms are tied down,
Civil servant beggar are we.
A praying for hunger should part in seclusion.
With food-stricken many of mate shall die amidst plenty.
Ho! Ho! What shall we do?
What we see is of bad premonition.
Cramped by Tartarus that called them self pilots.