The Rivers No Longer Flow

Today, those words are still heard,
"remember! We are brothers who come from the same land.
and see, “those that are now netting promises,
are they having lunch tomorrow”?
or even dinner snatched by the current storm?

The rivers no longer flow,
surrounded by blind love,
love that always spins sanity,
become a sleeping chair, a place to store dust,
who only covered their ears to hear the groans next to the pavement.

On the bank of a muddy estuary,
we seem to no longer be roots,
creeping gives life to the branches,
mortal by the "count of hours",
unfortunately we are walking with the flow of investigators.

We agree, "let's defend the tired",
but the current rolls defend on the strong,
while I'm still fighting counting fingers,
unpaid school fees,
The milk for the youngest hasn't been bought yet, can you help me?

Tomorrow, I'll still be whole,
searching from the rubble of trash,
from the barren land that towers over the village boundary,
and these words which are imperishable,
before the speakers.

— -

Nekafehan, 11 June 2021