Now we are going home
After the fierce battle we have won
Fought on top of the hills of Megiddo
With rusty short knives
That shade blue blood
Now we are going home
Reminiscence of the days on mount camel
Where the giants came with bulala
The heavens threw pebbles
The western wind flogged with the tongue
Like chameleon we moved with cunning
With the end not at sight
Now we are going home
Clutching the tail of the peacock
And an eagle’s feather on our red caps
Back could not turn
Lest to a pillar of salt could turn
Now we are going home
Though the road seems dark
Vultures perch on tree branches
Owls hoot in their hid-outs
Black cats wink and stare at us
But now we must get home
For at the end of the dark is a candle
Which only the awake could clutch
For the heavens no longer rain manna
But now we must get home
No place like home
A nice piece from a gifted pen!
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