It was a dark night, full of fights, as if the sun will never rise
The bullets were passing beside me, but I couldn't realize
All the people were afraid, , I was trying to resist anywise
The voice of freedom rose high in the souls of the arise
The life of the oppressors, was walking anticlockwise
The voice of injustice blinked away, like its form analyse
The devil thought and thought, 'How could I make a plan,
to stop that voice, to regain everything without complain'
The birds began to sing, voice of freedom returned again
to prevail the happiness again, , to resist suffering pain.
The sun which we thought that it will never rise again.
it rose to remove steps of a man made it without vain.
The sun will keep rising and rising every day, , to bloom the flowers,
to remember us, how is that light, was thanks to God and martyrs.
©AFRICA
©BLEEDING PEN
