Time is bold
And Fate is strong
Both hold down
The right and wrong
I shall not speak
In ancient parables
Young, composed am I
My soul has no troubles
I will switch this up
Raise a cloud white from dust
Cause ice to rust
Destabilize subtly
Your mental gravity
Tug in your heart a single cord
I shall do so
For I will remind
You of Africa
The land you left behind
You might wonder
How you have done that
Living in her Jungle
Amidst her Thunder
Even the most loyal
Often stumbles
The impatient African
Often grumbles
But works little to effect
The change he would elect
Is this not betrayal,
Of the regal
And unholy sort?
Worse in fact, than corruption
There is a way though
We might move along
Fly, swim
Walk, go
We must master
And march down it
We must gather
Our dreams
And carve a reality
We would be proud to inhabit
We have nations now
Decades old and mighty
In a manner feisty
We must create and forge
Bolts of lightning:
Men, women, inventions
Expand the African female’s
Closely defined dimensions
We must have more
To show than History
Than the past
Than a battle-log of defeats
The ink of our skin
Tells us not who we are
Jungle Thunder
Must we proudly erupt!
And swiftly execute
With the white flag of thought
I will leave
Mama Africa
Better than, she was earlier
She knows this
She watches her children
Far and near
Without any knowledge of fear
She watched, Time and Fate grow
