Tell me do you remember
That one time in Ondjiva
A young maid, delicate and soft
Had her her soul emblazoned in a fiery ember

Ashes to ashes, is all was left after
Empty halls for eyes
Crackled broken laughter

Withered wings brittle
She rose from the ruins
Thorn, briar and nettle
Her castle, home and dwelling

Kings and queens they cast their crowns
As with salt and flame, she burned it all
But it’s quite late, it’s too late now
For all that was dear of her is gone

-Chiseche

Advertisements