The Moran
THE MORAN
Dreadlocks running down his shoulders
So red to pass for a bloodbath
But traditional beauty veins deep
My brother the great Moran
His eyes black with strange look
Not fear but ready to strike
His white teeth gives bright smile
My brother the great Moran
Too strong to carry loads and kill
Black strong arms ready to crush
Broad dark haired chest indeed healthy
My brother the great Moran
Up high they jump across the air
Brown traditionally beautified legs
Keep off track lest they pass for metal rods
My brother the great Moran
The white beaded shield always at arm
The long spear his weapon his hunt
The lion smell him the deer he feast on
My brother the great Moran
Its not bedtime don’t query the sheets
They make his clothing hide his nakedness
Two birds with one stone, they serve purpose at night
My brother the great Moran
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