Sons and Daughters of dark soil
Pay attention to my rhythm
It seems out of codes, rounding like a coil
Pointless like gibberish
Well! Let the wise dig wisdom from my nonsense!

Why throwing insults on yourselves?
Cursing your melanin
With doctrines of broken shelves
Demonising your own skin and hair
I wonder how founding custodians of Ubuntu feel!

Shamelessly you claim living in freedom
Yet you’re subtle prisoners
Under slams of your puppet chiefdom
Ironically ruled by supremacy of ghosts
Who had stolen your ancestor’s pride!

Sons and daughters of modernity
Whisper in my ear if you can
Tales of sovereignty
You plan to tell your grand off springs
In a generation of new melanin that heals the world.