In desperation I call out

But who could possibly hear my cry

Without hope I am consumed by distrust

Yet I reach my hands above the dust

Like a village quenched by flames

I am burned down to ashes

And like a child that is derogated

My heart and mind bare the wounds afflicted

Hold tight your grasp dear soul

The fight is not over just yet

Though surviving life is a long run

Colours will shine upon the rising of the sun

Gunfire and explosions fill the night sky

Grieving cries follow with the morning

Nothing can be done, though it is not fair

And ignored is the pained in their time of despair

Children left alone to die

Young girls along with I used for pleasure

Although quiet, ignored is our silent plea

But for help, we receive no mercy

Skulls of young and old on display

A perfect reminder for all to see

The price a country had to endow

Just in hopes that they could be free

From the strong grip of foreign tyranny

Oh sweet Africa

From six years of age you ruined me

What your people did to me and all that I saw

Even when I sleep, I relive it all

But oh sweet Africa

Even despite my PTSD

You are always home to me

And though my battle is not yet won

I know a time will come sometime

When all my true colours will burn bright

Like the sun's morning light