The fear shall be unleash
That sympathy be put to sleep
And the wicked would never sleep
Ranged by their wicked deeds
I shall shower it upon their face
That I'd share my taste
As it washes their fate ...
Fate, fate, fate
Is it what they enslaved
Enslaved by old dark hands
Which look familiar
Whos tongue curse her
As a sign of favour
I cry, cry and cry
[Israel Xaba: gr.12 1 December 2023]
Click HERE for more poems.