Let it be a genial death,
Jovial and Jubilant.
Ladies and gentleman, please allow me to
Die this jolly death.
Take me to the midst of guns and firearms!
Stop your amusing songs and satisfying voices,
They are futile to my ears.
Take me to the streets of Bulawayo.
Where cry and weeping is heard
Up in the mountains and in the valley of gloom.
Where peace is denoted by a wrecked empty property.
Let me kick the bucket wiping tears of widows
And wiping blood in the dusty streets of Bulawayo.
Let me throw at least one stone to the killer.
Let me shout “stop it’ one more time.
Take me to the chamber of the bruised,
Give me a chance to whine within my brothers.
Take me to the place of Worship and lift my spirit.
Let my face drizzle the gospel of Jesus
In the midst of death.
Let the rain of peace teem down
In the land of the neglected children.
Press down my repugnance my soul
And lament your youth.
Let my death bring political hygiene.
Let it obliterate malevolence
And bring gargantuan love.
Let it feed the hungry and
Shut the malaise and malady.
Let it be heroic and worthy.
Let it be light in horrors of the shade,
And destroy the borders of our nations.
– End –