Egypt, I gathered was the cradle
Pure, natural unadulterated.
On the world fell the mantle
Deflowered, artificial and diluted.
Oh! how she must have basked in glory
But must now stand to watch a sight- gory!
Brutish live carnage in a rampage.
Ugly like sewage down the drainage
What a strange metamorphosis
That left everything empty.
Empty, hollow and dirty
I stand in my hut and watch,
The environment gone stale
With beauty, pollution and scratch.
I recall with nostalgia the song of the nightingale
And my heart quaked.
Omotayo Akinfolami is a poet and writer of human existence, culture, language.