GUITARS OF DEATH

Breath taking tunes,

Soulless bodies in queues

On the African vast dusty stages,

Is where demise dance once took place & still, rage’s

Cross firing notes,

To escape the rhythm there was no chance, as systemically still is.

Sons of god over sons of soil,

Misunderstanding led to blood shedding.

Sons of soil over sons of god,

Evils feasting resulted to life divorce &

Engagement of the nation to death wedding

The father wept while Mother nature was crying

For misdeed of their sons

hopeful smiles,

were then made by rising of freedom sun,

Where black & white were able to rub their cold shoulders,

Showing crocodile smiles

Not for long walking on liberty miles,

joy turn to bitter smiles

For freedom was individualised

for black agent swine’s

that were not only freed to self-indulge

but to flaw the sacred African ground

now this day, is  & time that we repent &

resent more than guitars of death.

Guitars of death are instruments of the west,

That were meant to rob us of wealth, health & strength

So to slave & bow on them sons of god

As time folds this nation tend to be cold,

Not of the west scold

but of our man who sold us for a life of gold

now this day, is & time that we repent &

resent more than guitars of death.

Writer: Bongo Flepu