His paws pounced on the breast of the Nile
And left Ham crushed, crippled and comatose.
No son of the East woke up with a smile
Seeing Pharaoh’s dale was overwhelmed by flood.
The world watched in wonder the 10/40 window,
While the wounded waited for help from abroad.
Beloved Nile, now bereaved of her sense of direction,
Wasted her waters in the wilderness against her wish
Disappointing the desperate hopes of many a nation.
O, Brute, what do you stand to gain?
What joy will this death and dearth give you
Now that our past labours are all in vain?
Our cries each morn stir up influences beyond this realm:
Prepare for war because we are not alone.