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They say "peace, peace" but there's no peace
It's a bare knuckle world from what I see
Publicly speaking niceties only to please
But in the shadows is a flexing spree
Posturing to intimidate and fleece
Factions rolling out to a tee
Their own spread, occupying and increase
To raise themselves from discourse to decree
But the subtleness on the surface shows nothing amiss
As the suffering and lament continues to be

Show me a man ready to loose his grip
On whatever spoils or advantage
They may loose good health and sleep
And threatening to too soon age
That they may amass as much to keep
For an inheritance to their heritage
For the future's costs tend to abhor being cheap 
And in favour of every commercial adage
As life becomes gold and silver deep
And the old stays are lessened from the stage

Terms of peace so long as you keep at bay
There will be smiles and claps on grant
And the niceties they say
Are as long as you forfeit what you want
This is not the peace for which we pray
That we should surrender to those who supplant
But peace on every side of our keep and stay
That the measure pressed down and running over in our chant
May be ours to steward; not theirs to sway 
If we be righteously indignant 

K. Muitherero

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