Promises litter, calls for a new amend;
They've all been tested, same result.
Games of lies, see our end;
We took it with a pinch of salt.
In your trade of blames, be brief;
Our world is in grief: and we ask
Where lies our profit, thought
We said that trade bring gains.
A billion donations, we still see the siege.
And worst still, we aren't in touch where it's spent.
To add to our very grief;
The more we asked, the less we received.
Spare us your efforts, rain on us results.
Quench our mockery by the high and mighty.
While we are left as laughing stocks;
By the very ones who feign our help.
Fix us afresh, or we change the rhythm.
Not again will the ground be only cold for some;
Be brief, we are in so great a heat.
How you start shall tell our patience.
This pride of yours was warned by me:
Like a damsel whose love is sought, my thoughts you screened.
Then little by little, my patience faded;
Our kings, be brief, time is running out.
I care less, which theories you chose to believe;
In danger, each man recognizes a succor.
Please be brief with your words of Cheer, if any;
Lest, the night put us all in want.
Point this magic torch around our cities;
A drought of doubt you'll find, whose help is urgent.
Keep love so near and give it so fast.
Be brief, our world is in grief.
