Father It be not your obligation;
Why I wonder is it that we exist?
Why is it that I live in this nation?
I believe I need a hint or the gist.
Our dire source deliberately brings drought,
Our breath isn’t or could not remain pure,
There is talk of peace, but first comes your lot,
Though erudite, a key you won’t bring for’.
Religion stated those that are a must,
For that which made of ostentatious gold:
The effect of greed turned the truth to dust;
Yet the truth you wield is kept seemly roll’d.
But answer-less I am in acquiesce to,
The truth you hide be it our cushion’d shield,
Respect I have grown for you and what you do,
The rest needs truth before I’m brought to kneel’d.
Respect and love I ken Excellency,
But bow me not, trust I not, not just me.