The sky has become dark
Now clothes will soon become black
As some have crossed to the great beyond
just because they were present at the banging sound
The plateau mourns
Bukuru hears the sound of the wailing
And the bello way is soaked in red
For once again! we have been struck
Hands have fallen and fences broken
rain fall from eyes until its swollen
what do we say?
who do we tell
The plateau is on the spotlight
but I pray that grace make things right
And there is hope for a day so bright
and strength for the brokenhearted
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