Son of Stones
Son of Stones
A Rock that split
This wretch begot...
So, douse me with grit
My mirth is got.
Builders bygone
My praise arouse
Who built with stone
This Fort of a house.
I wear dread locks*
To their martyrdom (e)
Who built from rocks
My Zimbabwe Home.
Great is the hand
That moved stones
With a magic wand
Plummeting drones!
When a curse you spit
I’m an enraged King
When stones you split
To Life I spring!
Great House o’ Stone
Is partly Me
Stone on top o’ Stone
Built what set me free!
***A dedication to the Great Zimbabwe Ruins, a monument whose structure is a marvel
of human ingenuity.
***I don’t wear dread locks actually. This is recognition to those who do so as epitomes
of freedom fighting, the likes of Bob Marley.
JM
29th Oct’ 2013
Copyright © Joseph Matose | Year Posted 2013
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