DAYS OF WAR
THE DAYS OF WAR
Blood drips from the wounded citizens,
Seep like sewage neath the politicians room,
Pure air blackened with the tear gas,
And the freedom they are fighting for seemed to be dead,
Cause they can't win as once said,
No they can't triumph over the hate in our enemy's head,
But they are deep in mud over the bullshit they're feed,
The wind is blowing like a hurricane,
In the frightening desolated land,
Where the police are insane,
And hawks feed on bloody body,
Bullets flying,children crying,mothers dying,
While the beast are eating and sleeping.
Announcing every hour in the television peace,
Their peace meant piece,
"Nusu mkati" was the issue,
but God knows the truth And He's forever more seing.
Too many echoed gun shots ringing in ears,
Too many hearts frozen numb from fear,
The throne for the tribe,
Hope glitters too distant like skylight chandeliers.
Wounded souls soaked in blotched black fate,
Persistent nightmares of woe begone escape,
Screeching fervently under libety's gate,
They grasp the rope fabric with delicate care,
Necks trickling from their bristly hair,
They chapped,dry lips whisper a final prayer,
before tightening ravish pain permeates the air.
A bright radiant flash scorches the cloudless horizon,
And they drift upwards,caressing their bare dangling feet,
Bleak,barren bitting malice below seems blazon,
But the dead know not the sentiment of defeat