SUICIDE: Tales of a lost land

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Oh Ragh,
I pray not to forget
Of the cure I need to remind you
To cure the land

When we get to that land I once told you
I pray I don't forget, Ragh
Truly, that land is abandoned and forgotten
Sad and broken
Useless, fruitless, hopeless
And I feel so filthy and powerless
Devoid of any ounce of solution
To revive its situation

Hey, do you get it at all
Don't you see the metaphor here?
I am that land Ragh
I am the one in need of the cure
The one tired of being maltreated
Fed up with suffering
Fed up with seemingly incessant torture

Everyday, I long for water to saturate me
But all I get, Ragh
All I get is thick fucking blood
You know, you know
Like the colour of Beowulf's beer
Yes, Yes,
Just exactly
I can't bring forth fruits like I used to
I bleed
I have got no pacifier
I have lost my inner peace
My body burns
Ragh, I think, I think
I am cursed
And it seems like...like
The people will suffer
From famine and drought
From diseases I will wrought
But I ain't going to be better
Do you see the irony, Ragh?

My faces will have cracks like shattering glass
My skin will be as unbearable as the fiery furnace of Babylon
My teeth will be as black as the asphalt of old Obafemi Awolowo road
My body will stink…worse than an Everest of refuse
Because the people must suffer
But they will never understand
I suffer the most
Because I am the inflictor
Inflictor of the pain
They hate me
They don't want me
See, see
They are migrating
They will never come back to me
See why I need the cure
Like desperately

The life of a tormentor is not always free of torment
The life of a bitter person is not always sweet
Behind that wicked smile is a grieved soul
Behind that "tough guy" is a soft being with millions of Achilles' heel
And there is the hope of suicide
calling aloud from the other side
I can just break and split into halves
And when the people will hear of what happened
They will rejoice and be thankful
'Cause I know they will

They will thank their God they had migrated
Before the great earthquake
Because the villain is not always loved
And is why he never cherishes life let alone his soul
But I don't want that for me
I want a life
A real life

I want to be that land flowing with milk and honey
I want to be that land blessed with countless natural resources
I want to be that fertile land that will benefit the farmer
I want to be that solid land on which the wise man can build his house
Or is it too much too ask, Ragh
Is it?