Children (of Africa)

No one to talk to, little one,
No one to talk to thee, and
the only ones I can talk to
are children.

No one to laugh with, little one,
No one will laugh with me and the
Only ones that should have laughter are the
children.

There is the reflection of the pale moon upon thy
ancient face, the warmth of the cooling sun upon thy slender back.
They follow the speech of freedom, the mission of the joyful souls.

The flame trees are created of thy golden hair, thy gentle heart marks
the lining of the silver sky. The swift moving rivers course through thy youthful veins. The call of a crane beckons her sisters yonder and the lion calls his brother to the welcome place.

Mark me well my children, for this is thy kingdom, the ancient reptile forges a path for thee. Upon the glazed distant mountains is thy light. From those hills listen to your brothers speak, buy alas do not listen to his fervent plea.

Sing to him my children; his universe abounds, before the golden throne thy mansions await. For it is thee that are the beloved of god, he beckons thee to thy massive mansions walls. Thy path is guided and the light is brilliant, for it is the sun that is thy torch and the moon thy candle.

No one to cry for little ones, no one will cry for me, and the only ones
that will cry are the children.

No one will cry for me, yet the only one I will cry for are children.

Children (of Africa)

rfailla

Joined January 2008

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