Sunday, 28 August 2011

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

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

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