Flag Half-Mast

Litter of trash and debris of corpses

Stench of blowflies, decay, maggots

Counting the casualties, all-in losses

With ideologies of an exorbitant rot

Pay no attention to its sickly colours

Huddle under naught but old prayers

All left unheard by those with power

Desecrating humans into scavengers

Scattered, diseased, a corrupted vein

Severed from life of a wicked system

For economy, for democracy or idiocy

Wolves in suits thirst more for insanity

The nation is mourning in bereft wails

But everyone gregariously hears to fail

And they’re too busy bickering over the sound

Of a dead country being lowered on the ground.

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