Ruins of a culture

RUINS OF CULTURE
A peaceful nature settings, where moralties rules
Now technology makes us it's own fools
Now products of internet,
Into it's world we're left

Once a king of his own clan
Now for president he ran,
Dressing in his own very cultural and beautiful attire
Now he's been addressed as sire

Our downfall, right from our pioneer
Who let our culture and ways fall beneath the bar
Out of humanity we're led
Farmers struggled to be fed; midwives failed to put to bed

A judge of his people and vast land
Now reduced to begging from a lad
For a chance at exposure
Ended up being lost, for sure

We never needed a jury
Until we sold our glory
Our blood flowing with fury
Losing the African blood without worry

Deep in mental slavery
In the joy of the past
There is summer savoury
We till our lands, yet we're forced to fast

With our powerful traditional spell casters
Still demeaned under various masters
Sold a lineage for a mirror
Leaving us to see only the reflection of a better future

May the next coming generations forgive our mistake
As we have drowned our respect in the white lake
Took pleasure in being fake
Gave out our freedom for a slice of the ignorance cake

The ruins of our forefather
In the wrong orientation, they made us gather
The wrong lane, we seemed to have gone farther
At the top, led by a wrong chosen leader