The power of the elite

in #poetry7 years ago

In a large sea of thousand whale
No infant fish had escapee
Where the whale eat,and we fight for ours
Are there way when the water turn red?

A giant hawk arrived on our tree
Brought the wild air blown the fruit
The most nourish ate by hen
A giant hawk claw the land

The land of morale speed
A vigilant hunt our farm
We sight the farm with hopeless hoe
The progenitor works has fall

The hoe works more but vigilant harvest
Where are the invigilator
Who work our farmyard
The hoe sound only heard after loose

The land remain when we lost our hoe
No grantee for the lost