TEARS OF OKOKO, THE AFRICAN DRUM
The sun rays seldomly die off,
Ushering in an African night in the hinterlands.
From the pregnant silence of the rain forests,
Folks retire from herding, one by one.
Osuka! Osuka! Osuka! the man calls.
Wake up my little son! the enemies are here.
Whistling sounds of poisoned arrows call out, Flashing out like glow-worms over Kruger park.
Like the smoke that thunders, "Mosi-oa-Tunya".
Ashy mist arrest the eye sight.
Osuka watches, as shelters perish.
A mighty kingdom loses its glory, fame,prosperity.
Silence! An echo whispers like a passing, Limpopo breeze.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum,
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
From its pouch, the sun births a new day.
Earth's wrath welcomes the newbie.
A solemn calm of a hidden Kingdom engulfs,
Like a lost city in the Sahara.
Pillars of a checkmated African Kingdom fall.
Like the white Nile descending,
Tears flow freely on faces of folks,
Upon sight of fallen heroes,
Covering the earth like wildebeests on Mara river.
To the shrine the villagers head.
Covered in goat skin coated coats,
Their elders, wise and in late ages, proclaim.
Silence! An echo whispers like a passing, Limpopo breeze.
Viva African Drum, Viva African drum
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
Soaring above the hills of Gota.
And flat like the nyika plateau.
A kingdom rests, the Itembe Kingdom.
Gatherers and hunters they are.
Like petals in fall, years have fallen,
Decades have risen.
Time have lapsed, youth have aged, old is gold.
It's a big day, the King's presence stamps that.
Hail the Itembe King!
We shall hunger no more!
Women and children shout in corases.
Okoko, the king's drum is hit hard.
Signaling the king's might and status.
Ladies and gents of the land dance and wine,
To the pain of the drum.
Silence! An echo whispers like a passing, Limpopo breeze.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
The drum beats kill time,
A new beat welcomes a fall.
The drummist hits hard,
Rejoicing of his fame to be.
Stop hitting the drum!
Folks shout, as the king rises up.
Dark clouds, I see them around me.
Okoko, the drum is talking,
To me the mighty ruler, conquerer of lands.
Silence! An echo whispers like a passing, Limpopo breeze.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
I Okoko! the mighty drum, mighter than,
All the kings of the African soil.
You! the king, listen,
From hide and wood I was created.
From the battlefield I was born.
I proclaim, no more forest death, animal death.
Bring back my tears, offsprings of the rivers.
Bring back my clean, zero carbon breath.
Bring back the life, of them in deep seas.
Bring back my colour, let i be called green.
For failure,my curse follows.
Every drumbeat will bring death unto you humans.
Silence! An echo whispers like a passing, Limpopo breeze.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
Viva African drum, Viva African drum.
©Moses Kwereba Gathua
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