Wednesday, August 25, 2010

MY BOTSWANA: BLEED NOT THOUGH YOU HURT

Recently your once bold brow has been broody
I hear talk you even walk slouchy and droopy
I fear mood swings make your gait lose its gaiety
You are constantly in soliloquy, losing your sanity
But remember my Botswana, the promise I made
I'll rile your foes and diffuse all storms if man-made
It's a bold promise I pledged to uphold for ever
I never say never but to ruin for you, I say never.

Many false prophets utter deceitful promises
Several zones and avenues are perilous premises
Contours once venues of charm are now hate smears
None that claim to love for you ever wipe your tears 
But weep not my Botswana for many are resolute
Sworn to defend you and hold your sovereignty absolute
Evil shall never cloud your clear skies and bright stars
You're my rock-solid stand, my pride and joyful abode

This hand that holds shall handle the sword of defence
If evil marauders continue their sheep in wolfskin pretence
No plunder shall happen, no blunder shall delude your faithful
In our decorous disposition we appeared weak and bashful
We fooled fools and fouled the conundrums of fortune seekers
Cunning predators preying faithful patriots shall loose their feelers
So Botswana, as you hurt and pine for days of bliss now missing
Fear no blood for we'll send the serpents heaving and hissing.

By Andrew Sesinyi

No comments: