THE SHOOTS OF HOPE

The emancipating crusaders got shot.
The politicians promised paradise, soonest they forgot.
The rains descended; the drowning earth still sweats silently in the hot.
The stomach cries but the feeding hand allows the harvest to rot.
The distant future seems in standstill like a dot.
Truly, Africa is now what we are not.
The guardians are in a dilemma so who now unties this enslaving knot.
The Oracles of the foreign lands against our liberty forever plot.
The priests asked for a miracle and this is all what they got.
The supposed remedy bleaches the damaged spot with a perpertual blot.
The dreams are drifting like the faith of a virgin harlot.
The tamers have trampled on our dreams and self-esteem more than a lot
There and then I glimpse of new shoots, rising from the broken pot.
The shoots of hope evoked to arise and claim their perpertual spot

@iamrobotboy there is still hope for Africa