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
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