I hear the desperate voice of my homeland,
As the waves comfort the sand.
It cries out for its tree-less ground,
We hear it but ignore the sound
Soon enough, it will cry out loud enough to be heard,
When the pain will be sung by the frigate bird
The atmosphere is stabbed with the pinnacles’ point,
And the blood of ugliness anoints
My eyes would have once endured the beauty,
But now they away in pity
Soon enough, we will have to take heed
When the lands run off bleeds it final bleed
Soon enough the land will be gone
Stripped to the marrow of it’s bone
The rest of the body will be left in its fester,
As its spirit reunites with the ancestor
They will sing the tune of nature’s descant,
For the loss and grief of the descendant
As the waves comfort the sand.
It cries out for its tree-less ground,
We hear it but ignore the sound
Soon enough, it will cry out loud enough to be heard,
When the pain will be sung by the frigate bird
The atmosphere is stabbed with the pinnacles’ point,
And the blood of ugliness anoints
My eyes would have once endured the beauty,
But now they away in pity
Soon enough, we will have to take heed
When the lands run off bleeds it final bleed
Soon enough the land will be gone
Stripped to the marrow of it’s bone
The rest of the body will be left in its fester,
As its spirit reunites with the ancestor
They will sing the tune of nature’s descant,
For the loss and grief of the descendant
Maura Eidabugi Thoma (21st century) Nauru
Source: Commonwealth Poetry Podcast.
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