Africa

Home sweet home, Africa my mother's land Where mornings arise with beautiful sounds of joyful birds Giving thanks to the one who gave them life. A peaceful yet chaotic place where souls find comfort in discomfort Cherished by the smoke of love and wisdom To keep hopeless hopes hoping for better days. A land of my origin in which my life principles are rooted And constantly nursed by my forefathers and mothers To keep me wet in a well of norms and traditions. This is home sweet home Africa my mother's land Where breakfasts and dinners are blessed with arts& culture In memory of days when forests used to produce food to eat And herbs to cure illnesses. Gone are the dàys , gone are the times But Africa my home remains firm like a tree in desert Watered by the streams of tears and blood With sorrows lamenting in pains. Yes, I still call it a sweet-peaceful home Though famines and draughts Continues to crush it with civil wars & political instability As the world watches in silence for this is Africa; Africa my home where hopes will never be lost No matter the blood lost. In pains and laments we will forever smile For we know that a home we have A home that stood heavy rains and horrible storms For many years and will continue doing so In decades and centuries to come.