She came and by passed
Going down to the streams
With her pot of water
I stand there watching
She came and by passed
Climbing up the mountain
With her pot of water
I stood there watching
I cry and wail
Scrub of the disbelieve I have
Armoured the hopes available
But not one can be heard
I am left to decide
Between Cheetah and Mamba
Not one good though
The things I have anticipated
Those that thought of me
The wishes that drown me in mandates
My words are simple and the things thereof
I live but lived
Should I be happy?
Mountains can roll back
The clouds can ran home for shelter
But I have no cave
To tell me
I have hopes
I am not pardoned
But happy to meet yet another stranger
Such has life proved to be
Yes, I know her
But wait; is there a room for change?
I live but lived
Should I be happy?


Life has been good and bad
It turns and turns
Turns and turns again
Finally setting on me
Takes a deep breath
Telling me her actions after all
I am afraid
The eyes on me
The hands at applauds
The legs on the go
I am afraid
I can quiet remember
If your right eye
Would make thee sin
Cut it off
For the rest, restless
If the things I see,
Of all that I can do
What my ears were capable to accumulate
Yet the vagueness of the future
That beautiful ugly scene
Awaits me
I am afraid
I don’t know if to trust my heart or not
My heard has been good though
When it rests at the sea
I am afraid
Nature has been good to make you a different
And when she finally brings her case
For a study
Be a different
Until you stand not for standing sake
I am afraid


She has seen the last drop of water vaporized
And now she can tell between the past and the future
Not one really wanted her existence
For they have left her hut burnt
Her children have been drown
And the bread they eat, now cost as low as life
Her little husband has been expelled
And she has refused to be comforted
If it is Sodom and Gomorrah
I would have wished they change their mind
For Mirah is not ready to turn and look back
The pillar of salt has too much sugar in it
She thinks her hopes for the future have been killed
By her selfish kind family members
The cost it too much for a decent burial
And now the family members have claim ownership
Where the crops she grows must she ask permission from?
If she is to grow old
If she is to grow young
Only her family members can tell
She travelled her crying before the hen croaked
The Sun has gone to bed
Her Royal Highness the Moon is delighted once again to come
With her beauty applauded by the maiden stars
She still weeps
I connote the Bossy Sea has enough room for the floods of agony
But still yet another to come
She dust herself with ashes
And her lonely bald head, luminous
She has been raped
Slowly as she grows
The days have numbered her indeed
Is it bad to cry?
To remember them with your feelings
The taste of disloyalty
Or they might comeback very soon?
To console you and refurnish your cheeks
Dressing them like a bridegroom
Ready for the bride.


Yes, our harvest is due
And for once, the rain has reconciled with us
She know she has to come, and now she has
The drums are set
The palm wine pot is full
It is fresh in it
I did it myself anyway
The night is still young
She has no one to entertain her
Sort of banal with the stars
And best as we can, let us dance
If we hop our agony to the grave
Diving our failures to the streams
Tell me
When shall our children learn to grow?
Our world is too small
Come let us dance
For when they come, shall see our hard worked footprints on the sea shore
They know us, yes; we sent them a letter to come
And now they have
If we cry today
We cry tomorrow
At least nature has done a thing
Of all that has happened, she still sends her daughter
To come and give yet
Another pierce of brightness through our dilapidated windows
If we rejoice today
Tomorrow might change her mind
And come along with our fortunes
The dreams we left at the hill side
Not forgetting the very one beside Mountain Everest
So come let us dance
Dance, Dance and Dance again