The hearts beating; weary of the rumour of the night

Eyes squinting; fearing to close to the sight of darkness

The body cringes clinging on the tussle looking for warmth –if any there is

The streets of our land have turned the graveyards of our souls- hear on our land

We smell the stench of our own because we’ve denied them a burial- there

Piling all there; there on one another rotting.


We’ve turned imbecile as we vulnerably watch at the tearing and fading of all life living

We’re vulnerable in our nation, because we can’t stop fighting each other.

We’re rotting in our nation

Rotting in our living


The rot!


We sold our souls to the gun

We live to survive only on the run

In our land to the whiteman we turn

We are the brothers of our enemies

Yet we should be the healers of our nation.


Our dear neighbours kindly look on

As we slash and mash each other

Our brothers watch on the side

As we collapse on the verge

You all witnessed the treaties

You all celebrated the young nation

As a nation for the generation

Walk the talk


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