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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required With each morning comes a new genesis That today would craft a dissimilar, Then The echo of my voice to be perceived too As it outs the grief that lies within the soul. For father, disillusionment was all he could Bore for the progeny, Though he allegedly Spoke of the liberty he sort to have crafted I never blamed him for his lameo progression Time did vote me a bastard, that was when I rose eyebrows and violently outed savage For even the Phoenix had done unjust to my Concern, Tatty retention was his upbringing Even the ethical echo of the drum could not Impact his thoughts, Traditional trails to have Strain, What a shame? Not ever did his acts Pleased any in the forlorn ancestral domains For change he inevitably crafted the thirsty Women and man did vote him a villain awry Yet brothers and sisters so blind fold falling For his schemes, That did brought conflicts A handful of petty silver coin torn down into Pieces the resistance that had stormed out And eventually terror was all the deed could Would post in the domains of Zimbabwe.... Then I realised that the struggle was indeed Endless yet still inevitably crafted, Now the Brother against brother, slaying each for only Rounds of applause, Really was the situation Even the blue suited comrade drew a blank on This kin as he stripped my back, Then questioned His conscience in that political storm which too Caused social dilemmas. Victimised by my own. Then came that day, In the new dispensation Again another day, A dawn that maybe mine Agitation and grief be eased with the seize Power to the people is Democracy was, yet be. To stood firm and vote for justice is the zeal That burst within the guts of the brother, For His phase was a dazzling light of enlightenment Even not to condemn those now with the mighty. If it is a chance, I wait not to see whether surely I will dance to the drum once again... Thoughts Patience paid before not today or tomorrow It is time brother you show off what you gut. I am weary in motherland, to have been borne In a free doom domain, Some to say liberated Really? where are the tangible benefits of the Struggle my grandpa dropped for... Chinamora Chaminuka the diviner and his prophecy to Rekindle the blaze once more. A genuinely Crafted revolution is what I stand for, no doubt To die for if this riffle outs blanks in the battle. I am tired of the hide and seek in the political Arena of my motherland. The son of soil at heart If ever there be a phase to post a cheer let it be Soon for later I willsummon Nehanda and Kaguvi My bone will rise again as promised. But this Phase in the nob of my indite with which incite A riot not ever been seen. Alas I will shout with Vengeance to awaken the ashes of liberation.
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